#(except for leaving but can he even leave?)
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Hi I have a req abt piercer!lando and what he would do if reader asked for a tramp stamp?
oh nonie I love this! strap yourself and in we go... piercer!lando saga: 1 / 2 / 3
piercer!lando loves doing tattoos and he especially loves doing them on you. When you told him you wanted a tramp stamp he felt like the sky opened and you were an angel coming down to sing the sweetest tune to him.
Lando didn't waste time, the very next day he had you in his shop, half hour before closing time after he kicked Max out, knowing he was going to get a lecture but he couldn't care less.
As soon as the stencil is on he has you bent over the tattoo chair, practically naked except for your bra, a tiny scrape of lace that barely covers anything anyway.
"Come on now," he teases as he works on the tattoo, his painfully hard cock nestled inside of your warm heat, your walls wrapped perfectly around him. "Be a good girl for me and don't move. You don't want me to mess up do you princess?"
You shake your head, a whimper falling past your lips as you feel yourself getting more desperate for him, entirely focused on the feeling of his dick feeling you up, the stinging pain of the tattoo needle on your lower back practically unnoticeable.
When the buzzing of the tattoo gun dies down, signaling Lando is done you can barely contain yourself long enough for him to clean the tattoo before you're trying to rock yourself back on him, hoping to grind yourself on his dick.
He laughs, a mean little chuckle, before you feel his fingers wrap around your hair and he pulls hard, forcing a moan out of your mouth as your back arches, the little sting of pain on your scalp begging you to follow back towards him.
"Lando!" You whine, and he loves how desperate it sounds.
His other hand comes down hard, spanking your ass before he releases your hair, both of his hands gripping your waist as he starts fucking himself into you, not giving you time to properly adjust.
"You're just a needy little slut, aren't you princess?" He purrs, his voice much closer than you anticipated. He presses messy kisses along your shoulders, still fucking into you brutally. "A desperate little thing, grinding on my cock while I tattoo you. You don't even care what I ink on your body as long as I fuck you after isn't that right?"
His hand leaves your waist, wrapping around you to toy with your clit. You can't even get a warning out, only managing a high pitches moan as your walls squeeze around him before you squirt, gushing out all over his dick and the floor.
Lando groans, his hips stilling as his dick twitches and you feel the sensation of his warm cum filling up your insides. He pulls out, his cum dripping out of you and down your legs as soon as his cock in no longer plugging your cunt.
"Fuck, that was so hot," he says, turning you around to kiss you, his tongue licking against your own. Finally he pulls back, his eyes focusing on the remains of your orgasm on the floor. "Fuck, Max is gonna kill me!"
want more piercer!lando? send a request and tell me your ideas!
#piercer!lando#dia's smutty thoughts#f1 x reader#f1 x you#formula 1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 x female reader#f1 fanfic#formula 1 x you#formula one imagine#formula 1#lando norris x reader#f1 smut#lando norris fic#lando norris smut#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#ln4 x y/n#ln4 x reader#ln4 smut#ln4#ln4 imagine
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hey! this is a dumb question, but why are general secretaries elected for life?
They aren't. The procedure in democratic centralism is that a Congress is called periodically, typically every 4-5 years though that might vary, where a new Central Committee and its associated organs are elected, including the General Secretary. The Congress is the most powerful organ in a communist party, above the CC and gensec. Members of the party are chosen as delegates from their local cells, and they each have one vote, as well as having the duty to participate in the debates.
In the USSR, Lenin was actually never the general secretary, then Stalin was elected repeatedly despite him asking to step down multiple times. He died whole being gensec. Khruschev was replaced by Brezhnev in 1964. Brezhnev did die in 1982, and afterwards there were two quick successions both ended with the person holding the position dying, Andropov in 1984 and Chernenko in 1985. Gorbachev of course died 2 years ago, as he was overthrown. It is true that after Stalin the USSR had a very aged leadership, that's why Brezhnev, and especially Andropov and Chernenko died in the position.
In Cuba, before the revolution, only José Peña Vilaboa died while being first secretary and he only held it for a year or two. Fidel left office in 2011 and he died in 2016. Raúl Castro succeeded him and he left office in 2021, he's still alive. Now it's Miguel Díaz Canel who is 64.
In Vietnam, Trần Phú died while in office in 1935, then it wasn't until 6 general secretaries/first secretaries, including Hồ Chí Minh who died 9 years after leaving the position, Lê Duẩn died while in charge in 1986. No other general secretaries have died except for Nguyễn Phú Trọng who died last year.
In China, there is more of a marked difference between the state and party, but it's honestly not that hard to research. Most have not died in office.
The DPRK is a big exception, the Worker's Party of Korea, which to be clear isn't even the only party in the DPRK, has had 3 previous general secretaries (Kim Tu-Bong, Kim Il Sung, Kim Jong Il) who have all died in office. I'm sure someone can explain this in more depth, but the Kim family was so well-regarded and initially chose as general secretaries because they were almost legendary guerilla fighters against Japanese occupation, especially Kim Il Sung. Anna Louise Strong talks about this more here in chapter 3 Government and Elections. Whatever the case, each member of the Kim family has been very involved in the WPK, and due to the accumulated experience elected.
Whichever country you were thinking of when you sent this ask, which is probably the USSR or the DPRK, nobody is chosen until death. These positions are regularly and democratically renewed or reconfirmed, and I don't think that someone being elected multiple times is undemocratic. If people are happy with how something is run, why would they change it? and besides, let me remind you the General Secretary is not that supremely powerful. All decisions in a democratic-centralism system are taken collectively, taking into account previous debates and the constant feedback from the base. Many, many people are involved who the Central Committee rely on, and the CC itself often changes members even more between congresses. Idk, the USamericans chose FDR for almost 4 terms an nobody talks about the FDR dictatorship. It's not hard to believe maybe FDR was simply a good president most people liked, and who was in charge during a crucial time. The DPRK has been under constant siege since its very creation, under sanctions and with some of the largest military bases and exercises on its border, run by the people who killed around a fifth of your people. Changing leadership often might also be conducive to instability and a rapidly-changing course, which the Korean people would understandibly not want.
Same with Stalin. He was the general secretary during a crucial time, the collectivization of work and industrialization on par with the US and western Europe, followed by the Nazi-fascist invasion, and then the very costly reconstruction.
Non-ruling democratic-centralist parties typically have a much faster rotation of general/first secretaries, you can look at a list on Wikipedia for most parties out there and you can compare with their death dates.
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okay here me out on this - you’re a youtuber and tiktoker who’s friends with the boys and always had a little crush on george, and he you, but you’re both cowards. it’s valentine’s day coming up and all the other boys have dates/are away and so are your girl friends so you say to george hey let’s do a friend v day like valentine’s day or smthn because he’s sad he doesn’t have a gf, he comes to your flat, you cook, watch rom coms, drink a lot of wine and you play games but you accidentally play a couples game 😉😉😉😉 and you end up doing the deed and in the end both agree to go on an ACTUAL valentines date the next day hehehehehe
A Valentine's Between Friends
george clarke x fem!reader
summary: a friendly valentine's evening leads to anything but…
warnings: sexual content, smut (MDNI)
3.4k words (may have got a bit carried away)
note: Anon, thank you so much for the request. It's my first time writing smut so I hope you like it, sorry if it's awkward and cringy. If it sucks let me know and would love to get more requests.
Masterlist
₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊ ‧ 。☆ 。‧₊ ˚ ˚ ₊
It was the sort of cold February evening that made you want to curl up with a blanket, a glass of wine, and pretend the world outside didn’t exist. The sort of evening that made you consider just not getting out of bed at all. Except for the fact that your phone was pinging with messages from the boys.
You groaned into your pillow, staring at the screen.
Chris had a date with someone he met on one of his spontaneous trips. Arthur was spending Valentine’s Day with a new girlfriend who he met through TikTok. Even your best friend was off on a family holiday. leaving you all alone.
You could already feel that aching hole in your chest. Valentine’s Day, of all days, was particularly terrible when you were single. The entire world seemed to be a constant reminder of the relationships you didn’t have. Of the fact that your phone was always empty, save for messages from your mates.
But then, there was George.
You had always had a soft spot for him. It started back when you all met, years ago, the banter, the cheeky comments, the laughs, the way he made you feel like you were always in on some secret joke. And now, well... now, it was just confusing. It had become a game of will-they-won’t-they. Neither of you ever crossed the line—too much fear of what might happen if you did. But god, how you both danced around it.
You hated the idea of spending Valentine’s Day alone, and so did he. So why not just make it a thing? A friend Valentine’s Day—no expectations, no awkwardness. You’d keep it chill.
You shot him a quick text.
“Wanna have an anti-Valentine's Day? I'll cook, we can drink wine, watch rom-coms and maybe play some games. Neither of us have plans, so why not? Let me know xx"
It didn’t take long before his reply came through.
"That sounds like exactly what I need. I’ll be over in an hour."
It was almost comically easy. But as the hour passed, you found yourself slightly nervous, unsure of what to expect. Was this just a chill night? Or was there something more lurking under the surface? You tried to push those thoughts aside, focusing instead on getting everything ready.
You busied yourself in the kitchen, the sizzle of garlic in the pan mingling with the rich aroma of tomatoes—a simple, hearty meal to pair perfectly with the wine you’d bought. As you laid the table, each placement was a silent testament to the years of friendship that had intricately laced your lives together.
The sound of the doorbell jolted you from your thoughts. George stood there, hands buried deep in his pockets, his smile shy but genuine.
"Hey," he greeted, stepping into the warmth of your flat, the cold nipping at his heels. "This is a surprise. Smells like you've outdone yourself."
You chuckled, "Microwave meals are tragic on Valentine’s, even for friends."
He let out a laugh, sitting down at the table. "Fair enough. This looks pretty decent, actually. I’m impressed."
The evening unfolded with an ease that only true friendship could afford. Dinner was a merry affair, filled with laughter and nostalgic exchanges about past escapades with the boys. As the wine flowed, the barriers of mere friendship seemed to melt away, replaced by a tender connection that neither of you had dared to explore.
He grinned, taking off his jacket and hanging it up, glancing around your flat. "I’ve got to admit, this is a bit of a shocker. You’re actually being… domestic?"
"Well, thank you," you replied, smiling. "I even put some effort into it, just for you." You pulled the wine out of the fridge, uncorking it and pouring another glass for both of you.
The conversation flowed easily after that—easy banter, jokes about past video shoots, hilarious stories about the boys. But beneath the jokes, there was something soft lingering in the air. It was the unsaid, the little sparks you both danced around every time you spent time together.
As the evening wore on, the wine started to loosen your inhibitions. You moved to the couch, both of you nestled into the cushions, a blanket draped across your legs. The rom-com marathon began, and you both laughed at the ridiculous plot twists, snickered at the corny lines, but neither of you could ignore the growing tension between you.
"Should we play a game?" you asked, glancing at the coffee table where you had set out a box of games, most of them silly. "Something to pass the time? No pressure, I promise."
George gave you smile. "Yeah, I’m game. As long as it’s not too weird."
You grinned. "Oh, it’s not that weird. It’s just a couples game."
He raised an eyebrow. "Couples game? What, like Truth or Dare, but for couples?"
"Exactly," you replied with a laugh, though your heart was now beating in your throat. "But it’s mostly silly stuff. You know, harmless. Just a fun thing to do on Valentines."
You could see his hesitation, the subtle shift in his posture. "Alright. But I’m not kissing you, just so we’re clear." He finished his sentence with a cheeky wink.
You snorted. "Who said anything about kissing?"
With a shake of his head, George grabbed the card deck, and you both started drawing cards one after another, each more ridiculous than the last. The questions were harmless, at first: "What's your partner's worst habit?" and "What's their favourite food?" The game seemed lighthearted enough. Until it wasn't.
George drew the next card, his fingers trembling slightly as he flipped it over. The room suddenly felt too warm, the air thick with unspoken tension. He cleared his throat, a faint blush creeping up his neck as he read the card aloud: "Describe your most vivid fantasy involving the person sitting across from you."
Your eyes widened, and you felt a jolt of electricity course through your body. The playful atmosphere evaporated in an instant, replaced by a crackling intensity that made your skin tingle. George's gaze met yours, his pupils dilating ever so slightly.
"We don't have to-" you started to say, but George cut you off with a subtle shake of his head. His voice low and husky. "No, it's okay. I want to answer."
"It's always the same dream," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "We're alone on a deserted beach at sunset. The sky is painted in shades of orange and pink, and the waves are gently lapping at our feet."
You felt your breath catch in your throat as he leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.
He continued, his voice growing more confident. "You're wearing that white sundress I love, the one that shows off your shoulders. Your hair is loose, blowing in the sea breeze. I reach out to brush a strand from your face, and suddenly we're so close I can feel your breath on my lips."
The room was dead silent now, and you’re hanging onto George's every word.
Your heart raced as George's words painted a vivid picture, one that mirrored your own secret fantasies. The air between you seemed to crackle with electricity.
"And then?" you whispered, barely trusting your voice.
George's eyes darkened. "Then I kiss you. Softly at first, but it quickly becomes more. My hands tangle in your hair, pulling you closer. You taste like salt and cherries."
You felt a flush creep up your neck, your skin tingling with each word.
"We fall back onto the sand," he continued, his voice low and intense. "The waves crash around us, but we don't care. All that matters is the feel of your skin against mine, the sound of your breath catching as I-"
George's voice trailed off, the unfinished sentence hanging in the air between you. The tension in the room was palpable, a living thing that seemed to pulse with each rapid beat of your heart. You realized you were holding your breath, your body leaning towards George unconsciously.
"As you what?" you whispered, your voice barely audible over the thundering of your pulse in your ears.
George swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbing. He looked almost pained, as if continuing would shatter some invisible barrier between fantasy and reality. But his eyes, dark and intense, never left yours.
"As I trace every curve of your body," he finally said, his voice rough with emotion. "As I worship you with my hands, my lips, my entire being. In that moment, you're my entire world."
You felt a shiver run down your spine, your skin erupting in goose bumps.
The silence that followed was deafening. You could hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, feel the heat radiating from your flushed skin. George's confession hung in the air between you, electric and charged with possibility.
"I..." you began, but the words caught in your throat. How could you possibly respond to such a raw, intimate revelation?
George's eyes searched yours, a mix of vulnerability and desire swirling in their depths. "Your turn," he said softly, pushing the deck of cards towards you with trembling fingers.
Your hand hovered over the stack, suddenly aware of how this next card could change everything. With a deep breath, you flipped it over.
"If you could do anything right now, without consequences, what would it be?"
The question seemed to mock you, daring you to voice the thoughts that had been building since George began speaking. You looked up, meeting his gaze once more. The air between you seemed to crackle with unspoken tension.
"I..." you started again, your voice barely above a whisper. "I would make your fantasy a reality."
The words hung in the air for a moment, heavy with implication. George's eyes widened, his lips parting slightly in surprise.
Without breaking eye contact, you slowly rose from your seat. Your heart pounded as you crossed the short distance between you, each step feeling like an eternity. George's gaze followed your movement, a mix of anticipation and disbelief etched across his features.
As you reached him, you gently took the card from his hands, letting it fall forgotten to the floor. Then, with a courage you didn't know you possessed, you lowered yourself onto his lap, your legs straddling his.
George's hands instinctively moved to your waist, steading you.
"We may not have a sunset, but..." Your voice trailed off as you brought your face closer to his, your lips mere inches apart. "We can make our own paradise right here."
George's breath hitched, his fingers tightening on your waist. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you hovered on the precipice of something monumental. Then, with a soft groan, George closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a searing kiss.
It was everything you had imagined and more. His lips were soft yet insistent, moving against yours with a passion that made your head spin. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened.
George's hands roamed your back, tracing patterns that sent shivers down your spine. When you finally broke apart for air, you were both breathing heavily, your foreheads pressed together.
"I've wanted this for so long," George murmured, his voice rough with emotion. His hands cupped your face gently, thumbs stroking your cheeks as if he couldn't quite believe you were real.
You leaned into his touch, your heart racing. "Me too," you whispered back, surprised by the intensity of your own feelings.
George's eyes searched yours, a mix of desire and vulnerability swirling in their depths. Slowly, deliberately, he leaned in again, this time placing a soft, reverent kiss on your forehead, then your cheek, then the corner of your mouth. Each touch of his lips sent sparks through your body.
When he finally reclaimed your lips, the kiss was slower, deeper, filled with a tenderness that made your chest ache. You melted into him, your bodies fitting together as if they were made for each other.��
“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice low, barely above a whisper, as if the question was as much for him as it was for you.
You leaned in slightly, your breath mingling with his. "I’m sure," you murmured, before closing the distance between you with a kiss.
It started soft—tentative. But as the seconds stretched, it deepened, becoming more urgent. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer. You could feel the warmth of his chest against yours, the rise and fall of his breath matching your own.
The world outside seemed to vanish. The only thing that mattered was the press of his lips against yours, the way his fingers traced the curve of your spine, sending sparks of electricity through your body. His touch was gentle at first, but as you shifted against him, something shifted in the air between you—a quiet hunger that neither of you could deny any longer.
"George," you whispered against his lips, a soft plea, and it was all it took. His hands moved to your face, cupping it as he kissed you again, deeper this time, as if he was losing himself to the moment.
You felt the intensity rise in him, in the way his hands wandered to the back of your neck, tugging gently, pulling you even closer. The taste of the wine mixed with the warmth of his mouth, and you could no longer tell where you ended and he began.
"Are you really sure?" he asked again, his voice rough with desire.
"Yes. I want this."
With that, the dam broke. His lips trailed down your jaw, your neck, leaving a fiery path behind. You shivered at the feeling, the electricity between you both undeniable. Each kiss, each touch, built the tension higher, and soon, it felt like the only thing you needed was him.
The wine seemed to fuel your courage as much as it fueled your desire, and soon you were both lost in the moment, not thinking about anything but the way your bodies responded to each other. His hands roamed freely, each touch sending your pulse racing, while you met him with equal eagerness, your fingers tugging at his shirt, desperate to feel more of him.
As things heated up, you both moved to the bedroom, shedding clothes along the way. George's eyes roamed over you appreciatively as you lay back on the bed. He joined you, his warm body pressing against yours as he captured your lips in another passionate kiss. His hands explored your curves, teasing and caressing. You arched into his touch, wanting more.
George trailed kisses down your neck and chest, taking his time to savor every inch of you. When his mouth found your breast, you gasped in pleasure. His tongue swirled around your nipple as his hand kneaded your other breast. The dual sensations sent waves of arousal through you.
You ran your fingers through his hair, urging him lower. He obliged, kissing down your stomach until he settled between your thighs. The first swipe of his tongue against your sensitive flesh had you moaning. He explored you thoroughly
George's lips trailed lower, leaving a trail of heated kisses along your inner thighs. His warm breath against your sensitive skin made you shiver with anticipation. When his tongue finally made contact with your center, you gasped at the sensation. He started with slow, teasing licks before focusing his attention on your most sensitive spots.
As George's ministrations intensified, you felt waves of pleasure building inside you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, urging him on as your hips rocked against his mouth. He slipped two fingers inside you, curling them in a come hither motion that had you seeing stars. Thel stimulation quickly pushed you over the edge into a powerful climax that left you breathless.
Before you could fully recover, George was kissing his way back up your body. You pulled him into a deep kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. Your hands roamed over George's muscular back as he settled between your thighs. You could feel his hardness pressing against you, igniting a fresh wave of desire. George gazed into your eyes, seeking silent permission. You nodded, pulling him closer.
He entered you slowly, both of you gasping at the exquisite sensation of finally being joined. George stilled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size. Then he began to move, setting a slow pace that had you arching beneath him.
Your bodies moved together in perfect synchronicity, finding a rhythm that built the pleasure higher and higher. George's lips found yours in a searing kiss as he quickened his thrusts. You wrapped your legs around his waist, changing the angle and causing you both to cry out.
The room filled with the sounds of your shared passion - soft moans, gasps of pleasure, skin sliding against skin. The walls seemed to disappear, as if they were the only two people in the world. George's hips moved faster, his thrusts deep and primal, as if he couldn't get enough of her. His lips trailed down her neck, nipping at her collarbone, urging her on.
You met his gaze, your breath ragged and your chest heaving. "George... I... I'm..."
He kissed you again, hard and desperate, silencing your words as he drove himself deeper inside you. "I've got you," he murmured against your lips. "Let go."
That was all the encouragement you needed. With a sharp cry, your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. The intensity of your climax sent shockwaves through your body, your inner muscles clenching around George rhythmically. He groaned at the sensation, his movements becoming more erratic as he chased his own release. With a few final deep thrusts, George let out a guttural moan as he found his peak, trembling above you.
You both lay there panting, bodies intertwined and glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. George's weight on top of you felt comforting rather than stifling. Sliding out, he lifted his head to look at you, his eyes soft with emotion. He brushed a strand of hair from your forehead tenderly before capturing your lips in a deep kiss.
"That was..." he trailed off, seeming at a loss for words.
"Yeah," you agreed breathlessly. "It really was."
George rolled to the side, pulling you close against him. You nestled into the crook of his arm, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest. A comfortable silence fell between you as your breathing slowly returned to normal.
George's fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin, sending pleasant tingles through your body. You tilted your head up to look at him, taking in his tousled hair and flushed cheeks. His eyes met yours, filled with warmth and contentment.
You both lay there for a moment, just breathing, both aware of the shift that had happened—of the line you had just crossed, and the new, thrilling tension that hung in the air. Neither of you spoke for a long time, simply enjoying the quiet intimacy.
"Well," he said, voice thick, "that… wasn’t how I expected the night to go."
You chuckled softly, catching your breath. "Yeah, me neither. But…"
"But?" he prompted, his eyes locking with yours, intense and filled with something new.
"But, maybe we should just go with it?"
He smiled at you, his lips curving mischievously. But when George finally broke the brief silence, it was with a soft chuckle.
"So… tomorrow," he said, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. "I guess we're going on that Valentine's date after all."
You couldn't help but laugh, the sound muffled against his chest. "I guess we are," you replied with a smile, lifting your head to meet his gaze. His eyes were soft and full of a warmth that made your heart flutter. As his eyes met yours, you knew that everything had changed.
Outside, the night continued on, unaware of the transformation happening within the walls of your flat. But inside, on this unexpected Valentine's Day, you found yourself celebrating not just the day itself, but the beginning of something new and exciting. As you snuggled closer to him, your head finding its now familiar spot on his shoulder, you both agreed to take a leap into the unknown together. This was more than just a date on the calendar - it was a promise for the future.
Valentine's Day was no longer a dreaded reminder of what you lacked, but a joyous celebration of what could be.
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Hola. Long rambling feedback behind the cut as well as
When he meets you, he hasn’t even thought of picking up a pencil in years. Ever since you’ve been at the mansion though, Logan’s fingertips twitch with the urge to start sketching your features every time he’s with you. It gets hard to ignore after a few days.
I think this is so beautiful. Anyone who is a creative knows how difficult it can be to find a muse. So for this person to inspire a twitch in Logan after YEARS? That's just a very beautiful thing.
He waits until he’s known you a few weeks, there’s no way in hell he’d ask if he could draw you. He’d probably embarrass you by asking, and embarrass himself by admitting he’s into fucking art. That’s not him. Except, well, sometimes it is, when he’s inspired. And you’re nothing if not inspiring.
And this is for BOTH 1) thinking it's not ok to be into art??? OK BUT CAVEMEN CARVED INTO WALLS, SIR and 2) "you're nothing if not inspiring" *screamingggggggggggggggggggg*
The first few drawings are shit, he feels like they’re almost an insult to you. It’s not that he’s accidentally drawing you ugly, it just doesn’t look like you. So he practises. Logan Howlett sits down at night to practise drawing.
I love that this fits with the Logan I know, the demand on self for perfectionism and the refusal to accept anything but. But it's especially important cuz he wants to do right by YOU/HER. *swoon*
And he totally knows that you’d never go for someone as rugged as him, that’s for sure. You deserve much more. So much more.
Sigh. Oh Logan. Always thinking he's not worthy while he holds everyone he cares about up on pedestals. I both adore him and wanna shake him for these habits.
He doesn’t know what you’re doing to him; you’ve got him using social media.
He gets Rogue to show him Instagram for reference photos. HOW CUTE!
Logan hates how drawing makes him overthink, but he loves how it feels to create something other than violence with his hands for once –��something that may even be the opposite.
This is soooooooooooooooo beautiful. It is just a loud beacon of what Logan's heart really is. It's also really precious that he finally produces a drawing of her that he's satisfied with which then produces ANGST in him. Cuz he can't leave it out cuz what if people see? But he doesn't want to hide it cuz what if it smudges? Watching him go back and forth about it and the STRESS shows how much it means to him not to mess it up but ALSO, I think, how much it means to him to be back drawing. As a creative who goes through the longest dry patches, when a period of productivity comes up? OH DO I WANT TO HANG ONTO IT. And probably try so hard that I make it slip through my fingers.
He finally lets himself think the thought that’s politely been waiting to be allowed into his brain from the moment he decided he might take up drawing again. He could give it to you.
DO IT LOGANNNNNNNN!
Logan knows his drawing isn’t objectively a masterpiece, but if he’s proud of it he has to acknowledge that that probably means it’s at least decent. And you’re definitely the type of person to appreciate something like this. It’s weird admitting to himself that he’s even proud of what he’s drawn; he’s done so much in this world, who cares about a little drawing?
YOU care, sir! And people who love you will SEE that and care too!!! Don't we all wish he valued himself and his opinions more.
The only thing is that Logan isn’t sure if he’s ready for anyone to see this side of him.
It's so precious to me, how relatable this is. Anyone who is a creative can relate, I'm sure. How nervous creatives are before they publish or they post or they even just share with someone they are close to. I wanna hug him.
He knows it’s stupid to hide but he just can’t. He decides he’ll leave the drawing in your room in an envelope, maybe a pink one to show you it’s not a creepy threat but meant as a sign of adoration, from someone who couldn’t resist but try to recreate your beauty. He won’t write his name on it, he just wants you to have it. Sappy motherfucker.
Some day, someone needs to tell him he can give himself permission to BE sappy. Corny is part of life and it's a blessing.
He’d doubt himself even more if he pussied out – a grown man who can’t even slide an envelope under someone’s door. So Logan mans up and, like an idiot, kisses the fucking drawing before he puts it into the envelope. He licks the edges of it to close it and writes your name in the most anonymous handwriting he can muster and adds a little heart. It’s soo stupid.
It's annoying to read Logan's antiquated views on masculinity here. Completely understand that it fits with his character and how he has aged and evolved but omggggggggggg, it's just frustrating lol
You’re a friend and nothing more, and that’s fine. You probably don’t like him like that and he can deal with that.
The way we can convince ourselves of the worst possible outcome, eh? *smh*
You have one of those clear phone cases, filled with a bunch of tiny pictures and stickers (and is that your credit card?). But wedged in front of all of those is Logan’s drawing. You turn around, giggling, “No, I don’t draw. And anyway, I wouldn’t be drawing pictures of myself. I got it in an envelope under my door yesterday, photocopied it because I was scared it would bend in my phone case. I don’t know who drew it.”
SHE IMMEDIATELY TREATED IT AS SOMETHING PRECIOUS!!! SHE WANTED TO PROTECT IT JUST LIKE LOGAN WANTED TO PROTECT IT!!! BUT SHE LOVES IT TO THE POINT SHE MADE HERSELF A COPY TO CARRY IT AROUND WITH HER AT ALL TIMES!!!!!
“I don’t know, just, so beautiful. I’m not saying I’m not pretty or anything, but this looks… I don’t look like that. I wish I did. I can’t believe someone actually sees me like that. It’s stupid but I….” You trail off and, conveniently, the toast is done at the same time and you move on to that. But Logan won’t let you, “What’s stupid?” You turn towards him with a shy smile, “I’m embarrassed.”
To see the similarities in how they DON'T see themselves fully is kind of sweet and makes me root for them.
“I cried when I first saw it yesterday. It’s one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten. And it’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever received, for someone to perceive me in such an artistic way.” The problem is that it makes him want to draw more, his stupid heart melting at your reaction to something he made– no, created.
He thinks he’s sappy for drawing it but he doesn’t think the same of you for enjoying the drawing.
This is HILARIOUS and KILLING ME because I also make rules for MYSELF that are different from the rules I have for EVERYONE ELSE lmao
He’s usually more of a silent carer but maybe that’s why he likes this. He’s not making it a grand gesture, not making it a thing that he’s the one drawing for you. It’s just for you to enjoy.
Logan being an Acts of Service person makes ALL the sense in the world to me.
But of course now that he knows it means something to you, he can’t get anything right. He draws your hair too curly, then not curly enough. He draws your nose too big, then too small. Your eyes end up crooked. He can’t erase too much because it’ll look sloppy, so even the drawing he gets almost perfect, he ruins with a few final additions at the end.
The curse of the sequel! I think a lot of creatives can relate to this type of self induced pressure which means nothing you produce is good enough.
“Good?” you take the frame from his hands defensively, “It’s beautiful.” He chuckles, “Sorry, I don’t know much about this type of thing. It is beautiful though.” He’s looking at you instead of his drawing.
She already has a frame for the new drawing cuz the frames came in packs of 2 and she will NOT STAND for someone not absolutely FAWNING over it and I love that from her. It's doing Logan's heart SO good to see how much she adores what he's created.
If there’s someone who’s worth it, it’s you. Seeing your pleased smile at something he made for you, he decides he’s never going to stop drawing you.
It was the stupidest joke of all that made you really laugh, some dumb comparison between Xavier and Caillou. You probably wouldn’t even giggle at it anymore now, but in the moment it was so funny you almost spat out your drink from the deep belly laugh he drew from you, holding onto his bicep so you wouldn’t fall over as tears formed in your eyes from how hard you were laughing. He wanted to engrave the image on his soul. At least he got your smile on paper.
Our man is S-M-I-T-T-E-N and I love that for him. Cuz look what it's brought back into his life?
“I didn’t know you draw”, you say without taking your eyes off it. “No one else knows.” You pretend to zip your lips, smiling, “It’s our secret.” Logan can tell that you like that. He likes it too. It feels much better to share a secret with you than to be keeping one from you.
This is so intimate. And he's finally comfortable all the way with her. She knows it's him and he's fine with her knowing it's him.
You don’t know how to put your feelings into words, so you’re kissing him instead. He pulls you down so that you’re not hovering over but sitting on his lap, and the mood immediately shifts to something different. Logan doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but if you’re ready then he’ll take anything he can get.
I appreciate that Logan is just the tiniest bit "selfish" here because this has been such an emotionally taxing ordeal for him. And she really really admires his talent and is THRILLED that it's him and that he sees her the way that he does.
From here the story slips into the Rated R portion of the story which is both hot and very sweet. The buildup means that I feel a genuine connection and intimacy between the 2 that feels "earned," if that's the right word. Cuz it doesn't feel forced or rushed or like we skipped a whole bunch of stuff to get here.
I also love that there's open dialogue. Often, the only talk between lovers is dirty - which I am a big fan of and absolutely fine with - but that here we have sweet confessions, constant check ins, and reassurances; these all fit with the journey we've been on with these two and I just really enjoy that aspect.
There's also good dirty talk, balanced give and take and praaaaaaaaaaaaise which I enjoy thoroughly. Logan also tends to take the possessive "my girl" over and over which just melts my butter!
@selfcarecap thank you so much for creating and sharing this! Thank you for following YOUR muse through to the end of this tale and then being brave enough to slip it under all our doors *bad dum tss* I really loved this look at Logan, his vulnerabilities, his abilities and desires beyond his powers / "job" and what allowing himself to create ultimately gifted him with. Well done smut that I also very much enjoyed too.
And thank you to K for putting it on my dash!
MUSE [L.H.]
Logan Howlett x reader
summary: Logan would never admit it to anyone, but over the course of his long life he has attempted to draw maybe once or twice. He hasn’t done it in years, maybe even decades, but he’s struck by inspiration when he meets you. Of course, no one can know that Wolverine draws, so he does it in the dead of night, sliding anonymous envelopes with the finished drawings of you under your door. When he sees how much you love them, he wonders if you could also love the person behind them.
warnings: smut 18+ but with an actual plot for once (brief m masturbation, oral f and m rec, unprotected piv sex, kind of accidental (but consensual obv) facial; pet names: bub, baby, good girl, princess), soft!Logan but he won’t admit it, also soft!reader, fluff (although the summary makes it sounds a bit more dramatic than it is tbh), implication that reader has curly hair, implied mutant/X-men!reader, (obviously the pic doesn’t represent the envelopes Logan uses lol he’s not doing all that)
word count: 7.3k
also i feel the need to say something about the fact that it’s Hugh Jackman’s birthday today lol so uh thanks for being huge jacked man and for giving us our Logan yay <3 | gorgeous divider by @plutism
It’s everything Logan is the opposite of – he would never tell a soul – but over the course of his long life, Logan has attempted to draw maybe once or twice. It’s not really him, but he did have a phase or two.
When he meets you, he hasn’t even thought of picking up a pencil in years. Ever since you’ve been at the mansion though, Logan’s fingertips twitch with the urge to start sketching your features every time he’s with you. It gets hard to ignore after a few days.
He waits until he’s known you a few weeks, there’s no way in hell he’d ask if he could draw you. He’d probably embarrass you by asking, and embarrass himself by admitting he’s into fucking art. That’s not him.
Except, well, sometimes it is, when he’s inspired. And you’re nothing if not inspiring.
He gives in to the urge to get out pencil and paper again, waiting until everyone else has gone to sleep. The first few drawings are shit, he feels like they’re almost an insult to you. It’s not that he’s accidentally drawing you ugly, it just doesn’t look like you. So he practises.
Logan Howlett sits down at night to practise drawing.
He picks out a few other things to draw then, to ease the pressure that comes with drawing the woman he… is friends with. Yeah, you’re a friend. And he totally knows that you’d never go for someone as rugged as him, that’s for sure. You deserve much more. So much more.
But after a few nights he feels more confident in his drawing skills again, but still, as much as he can picture you in his mind – he can do that absolutely perfectly – he’s not too sure he could really draw you accurately.
So he gets Rogue to show him how goddamn fucking Instagram works so that he can look at some of your pictures and use them as a model.
He doesn’t know what you’re doing to him; you’ve got him using social media.
He can’t believe it, but the first time he seriously attempts to draw you, it’s perfect. It’s a small drawing, not even as big as his palm, capturing your gorgeous face. He thinks of adding another few lines to your eyebrows, or to your hair or another small one to the outline of your lips, but he doesn’t want to mess with it.
Logan hates how drawing makes him overthink, but he loves how it feels to create something other than violence with his hands for once – something that may even be the opposite.
He hides the drawing in between the pages of a book, and hides the book under a pile of random clutter on his desk that not even he would normally spare a glance at. But when he lies down to go to sleep, he gets all the stuff out again and gets out the drawing. He wants to see it again. And he can’t leave it there anyway, what if the pressure from all the items on top of it smudges it?
But he doesn’t know what else to do with it. He can’t really have a drawing of you sitting in his room. What if someone sees? Then what is he gonna do with it instead?
He finally lets himself think the thought that’s politely been waiting to be allowed into his brain from the moment he decided he might take up drawing again.
He could give it to you.
Logan knows his drawing isn’t objectively a masterpiece, but if he’s proud of it he has to acknowledge that that probably means it’s at least decent. And you’re definitely the type of person to appreciate something like this. It’s weird admitting to himself that he’s even proud of what he’s drawn; he’s done so much in this world, who cares about a little drawing?
The only thing is that Logan isn’t sure if he’s ready for anyone to see this side of him. To see the side that has him staying up until 3AM to finely trace the lines of someone’s eyelashes and cheekbones and lips, the side that makes him feel calm inside.
He knows it’s stupid to hide but he just can’t. He decides he’ll leave the drawing in your room in an envelope, maybe a pink one to show you it’s not a creepy threat but meant as a sign of adoration, from someone who couldn’t resist but try to recreate your beauty. He won’t write his name on it, he just wants you to have it.
Sappy motherfucker.
He puts the small drawing back into the book and carefully pushes it between his mattress and the bedframe to protect it during the night. God, who even is he – protecting a tiny piece of paper? He groans at himself as he turns around to go to sleep.
He dreams of making a thousand drawings of you, with you as his live model. His muse.
You’re his girlfriend in his dream, he thinks.
He’s sitting in a chair in your room, drawing you as you tell him about your day. You’re lying on your bed on your tummy, elbows propped up to support your head. You’re gently kicking your feet in the air behind you, wearing nothing but a t-shirt of Logan’s, some silly graphic socks, panties with little cherries on them, and a bright, bashful smile as Logan attempts to capture your glowing features in a sketch block he’s dedicated to drawings of you.
He wakes up with morning wood.
Logan is no stranger to jerking off with you on his mind, so he spits in his hand and slips it beneath his boxers, stroking himself as he thinks of you. He imagines you on top of him as he jerks his cock, imagines you under him, or with your legs around his head, or you between his knees on the floor. He cums quickly and hard, leaving his boxers wet and sticky.
He goes for a run after he’s dealt with it and picks up an envelope on his way. He’s doubting himself but he knows he has to just do it. He’d doubt himself even more if he pussied out – a grown man who can’t even slide an envelope under someone’s door.
So Logan mans up and, like an idiot, kisses the fucking drawing before he puts it into the envelope. He licks the edges of it to close it and writes your name in the most anonymous handwriting he can muster and adds a little heart.
It’s soo stupid.
He makes sure no one is anywhere near your bedroom, walks up to your door, and slides the envelope underneath. Except he didn’t check if you were in your room. As soon as the envelope disappears beneath your door, he hears a short creak from your bed and your soft footsteps.
He hears the small and adorable noise of curiosity you let out – a confused hm? – and then he quickly and quietly makes his way down the hallway. He hears your voice about ten seconds later, an intrigued hello? as you open the door, but you don’t investigate further, closing the door behind you.
Logan’s heart is beating so fast. He’s never doing this shit again.
He’s antsy all day, waiting for some type of reaction from you. Except you don’t know that the drawing is from him so he’s probably not even getting one, and he can’t conspicuously come to your room the same day you receive an anonymous drawing of yourself.
It’s also when the insecurity settles in. Maybe he should have added a few more lines or started the entire drawing anew. Who does he think he is pretending to be an artist?
He shakes those thoughts off as he starts training with the punching bag in the gym. It’s not something that he necessarily needs to train, but it gets rid of some of that pointless energy. This isn’t him, worried about some lines he drew on a piece of paper – a scrap of a paper, really. Who cares about something like that? Certainly not him.
He sleeps dreamlessly and wakes up the next day disappointed that he didn’t get to dream about being your boyfriend again. God, what are you doing to him? Making him think about being boyfriend and girlfriend. He’s pathetic. You’re a friend and nothing more, and that’s fine. You probably don’t like him like that and he can deal with that.
-
He’s not even thinking of the drawing anymore, truly, when he walks into the kitchen the next morning. It only comes to mind when he sees you, alone in the kitchen, leaning over the counter to scroll on your phone, your weird green coffee (“it’s Matcha, Logan”) next to you as you stir it mindlessly with a metal straw.
“Hi,” you look up with one of those sweet smiles of yours, but redirect your attention to your phone.
At least you don’t immediately say something like hey, you know that drawing you slid under my door? It was so ugly I threw it away. Since when do you even draw?
Not that he was worried you would or anything. He hasn’t been thinking about it. Obviously. Why would he? And he knows you would never expect that it’s him; that’s the only reason he did it. He never would have given you the drawing if he thought you could have even the slightest inkling that Logan would be someone who draws. But he still wants to know what you think of it.
“You want some toast too?” You ask, putting your phone down and turning to get some bread. He sits down at the other side of the kitchen counter and as his eyes flicker to your green drink (he still doesn’t get it), he sees it.
“Is that–” my drawing, he almost said, “What is that?” He pretends to be confused, drawing his eyebrows together, trying his best to look inquisitive, “No toast by the way, thanks.”
You have one of those clear phone cases, filled with a bunch of tiny pictures and stickers (and is that your credit card?). But wedged in front of all of those is Logan’s drawing.
“Did you draw it?” He asks.
You turn around, giggling, “No, I don’t draw. And anyway, I wouldn’t be drawing pictures of myself. I got it in an envelope under my door yesterday, photocopied it because I was scared it would bend in my phone case. I don’t know who drew it.”
“Secret admirer?”
Smiling, you say, “I don’t know. I won’t get my hopes up. But the person must definitely be fond of me to draw me like that.”
“Like what?” He asks, unsure if he’s about to be offended.
“I don’t know, just, so beautiful. I’m not saying I’m not pretty or anything, but this looks… I don’t look like that. I wish I did. I can’t believe someone actually sees me like that. It’s stupid but I….” You trail off and, conveniently, the toast is done at the same time and you move on to that.
But Logan won’t let you, “What’s stupid?”
You turn towards him with a shy smile, “I’m embarrassed.”
Logan stays silent. He can’t seem too pushy and draw attention to himself, but his silence makes you confess.
“I cried when I first saw it yesterday. It’s one of the best gifts I’ve ever gotten. And it’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever received, for someone to perceive me in such an artistic way.”
Logan makes a noise of satisfaction and smiles, asking you to pass your phone so he can look at it more – pretending it’s his first time seeing it. If you think that way about it, maybe the three more lines he was going to add aren’t that important after all.
The problem is that it makes him want to draw more, his stupid heart melting at your reaction to something he made– no, created.
-
After a week, he figures he has to give in. Drawing another picture of you is on his mind twenty-four seven.
It doesn’t help that he still catches you staring at the copy of it in your phone case lovingly more than once a day and you’ve put the original drawing in a special little frame on your nightstand. He thinks he’s sappy for drawing it but he doesn’t think the same of you for enjoying the drawing.
This is for you. It’s not about him. He’s not an artist or anything like that, he’s just doing something kind for someone he cares about (which is honestly sappy enough but he tries to ignore that). He’s usually more of a silent carer but maybe that’s why he likes this. He’s not making it a grand gesture, not making it a thing that he’s the one drawing for you. It’s just for you to enjoy.
He’ll just make this second drawing and silently put it in your room, and he’s the last person you’ll suspect.
But of course now that he knows it means something to you, he can’t get anything right. He draws your hair too curly, then not curly enough. He draws your nose too big, then too small. Your eyes end up crooked. He can’t erase too much because it’ll look sloppy, so even the drawing he gets almost perfect, he ruins with a few final additions at the end.
It takes him an entire month for the next drawing, and it feels more like him that it’s been making him so angry that he couldn’t get it right at first. Maybe he had the wrong picture of artists. They’re always talking about pain, aren’t they, and that’s what he experiences too (over a drawing. Who is he?).
He takes another few days to keep track of your routine, to monitor when you’ll be in your room. He can’t have it be as close as last time.
He ends up doing it in the evening. There’s a time after dinner when most of the team stays together to watch tv, just talk, or play some games. It’s normal for some of you to wander off, come back or stick around a bit longer. It won’t be suspicious if he leaves for a few minutes and comes back.
Logan wants nothing more than to follow you when you say that you’re going to your room for the night; he wants to see your reaction. But he can’t. All he can do is go up to his own bedroom fifteen minutes later, lingering in the hallway longer than he needs to.
Just as he’s about to give up and go to sleep, you walk down the hallway, coming back from the bathroom.
“Logan!” you call all excitedly when you see him, and his heart skips a beat. Do you know the drawing is from him?
“Look,” you take his arm and pull him to your room, “I got another drawing!”
He breathes out in relief; you don’t know it’s from him. He smiles when you hold up the drawing, already framed.
“Were you expecting to get another drawing?” he teases.
“Noo, but the frames came in a pack of two. Isn’t it gorgeous?”
Logan looks at how your eyes sparkle, how proudly you’re showing him this drawing. All the work he put into it was definitely worth it. It’s another picture of your face, this time from a new angle, and with your hair styled differently, curls coiled another way from last time.
Logan clears his throat, remembering to keep up his act. “It looks good.”
“Good?” you take the frame from his hands defensively, “It’s beautiful.”
He chuckles, “Sorry, I don’t know much about this type of thing. It is beautiful though.” He’s looking at you instead of his drawing.
“It is. And you don’t have to know much about art or drawing to see how pretty this is. I still can’t believe someone would take the time to make these for me.”
Logan remains silent instead of saying what he wants to tell you. Of course he would take that time for you – and you don’t even know how much time it really took him. If there’s someone who’s worth it, it’s you.
Seeing your pleased smile at something he made for you, he decides he’s never going to stop drawing you.
-
He’s on a roll for some time. He’s better at drawing again now that he’s getting in practice, and he makes five drawings of you within the next weeks. Logan watches the collection of them on your nightstand grow fuller, along with your smile that somehow gets bigger every time you tell him about a new drawing.
It’s a wonder you haven’t caught on yet, but you don’t seem particularly interested in snooping around to find out who it is. You respect the person’s privacy, but you’ve confessed to him that you’d still love to know.
“I won’t try to find out who it is. I won’t push it if they don’t want me to know… but, I mean, anyone would want to know, wouldn’t they?”
You’ve adopted the nickname of ‘secret admirer’ for this mysterious ‘they’, after Logan used the term about ten times. You were reluctant at first, because the person isn’t calling themself a secret admirer – you’d just be putting words in their mouth. But after seeing how much more beautiful the drawings get each time, you’ve accepted and admitted that, okay, yes, the person must be an admirer.
Your secret admirer Logan is particularly proud of his latest drawing, excited to bring it up to your room tonight.
But this time he’s sloppy. He’s stayed for a few post-dinner card games with the team, and it’s risky, because you’ve been saying that it’s your last game for the last two rounds. But he also knows that you always say that, and never mean it.
Logan gets up to leave, and he hears Scott convincing you to play just one more round.
It’s stupid, really, risking it like that. Even if he’s gone from your room in time before you come upstairs, you could easily guess that it’s Logan. He’s the first one leaving the round tonight, so your first assumption could be that it was him.
Maybe subconsciously he wants to get caught. He’s seen how you light up at every drawing, and no matter how much you respect your admirer’s anonymity, of course you want to know who’s dedicating so much time and work to drawings of you. Of course it’s crossed your mind that the person isn’t just doing this because they’re a good friend. They’re drawing your face because they think it’s beyond beautiful.
Logan doesn’t really know why he hasn’t told you yet that he likes you. He’s good at flirting, and he’s attractive – he’s not blind. But with you it’s different, there’s a bigger risk, for the both of you. The older he gets, the harder it is to open up to yet another person. You’re friends, and you talk about personal things, but confessing that he’s in love with you is different.
Not to mention this stupid recurring dream he keeps having, in which you find out it’s Logan who’s been drawing you, and suddenly your opinion of the drawings changes. You don’t like him back like that, and suddenly the drawings feel creepy if you think about him staying up late drawing your face.
He rolls his eyes at himself and gets the thought out of his head, taking the small envelope out of the back pocket of his jeans, smoothing his hand over it. He looks around, making sure no one sees him.
Logan bends down to slide the envelope under your door as usual, but one of the corners of the paper catches against the wall, and he quickly opens it to check the drawing isn’t damaged. His heart is beating so fast, he feels stupid.
He can hear footsteps, still far away, but he can hear them. Logan messily licks the edges of the envelope to close it back up, but it’s not sticking. He can’t decide between shoving it under the door like this or leaving now and bringing it back the next day. He can feel his heart hammering against his ribcage now.
Then he hears it. He miscalculated how far the footsteps were.
“Logan?”
He turns around slowly, and it feels like the world has frozen.
You come closer, looking at him and then at the letter that he must’ve dropped. It hasn’t made it under your door yet.
He says something before you can, “I’m delivering for someone else.”
“Who?” you ask, bending down to pick up the envelope. If he wasn’t petrified, he’d enjoy the view of you bent over in front of him.
He breathes. He can’t have anyone taking credit for his work, for his art (you called it that recently, he would never). But his heart is beating so fast he doesn’t know what the fuck to do or say.
This is exactly why he never wanted to do any of this. He’s making a fool out of himself and that doesn’t usually happen, especially not over a piece of paper. Logan is confident, cocky even, he can admit that, and has no idea how to deal with things like being nervous; he never has to. This really isn’t him.
You don’t wait for an answer and look at the envelope. You open it so carefully, gently taking the drawing out with your fingertips. You’re treating it with so much care he immediately feels better. Again, this isn’t for him, it’s for you. (Well, it’s for him too but it’ll take him a while to admit that).
He’s drawn your smile this time. You were happy in most of the drawings before, but he focussed more on the eyes, and your lips only ever tugged up in a slight smile.
This one is a full-toothed grin, mid-laugh.
You two were drinking last weekend. He barely felt it but your tipsy, giggly mood was contagious. He couldn’t imagine himself feeling any other way but blissful when you’re happy around him.
It started when Logan made a casual comment about something silly Scott was wearing that night, and he had you giggling. He wanted to immediately hear that angelic sound again, of course, and so he gave you every joke about your shared friends he could think of – all light-hearted, but he was still glad you two were alone.
It was the stupidest joke of all that made you really laugh, some dumb comparison between Xavier and Caillou. You probably wouldn’t even giggle at it anymore now, but in the moment it was so funny you almost spat out your drink from the deep belly laugh he drew from you, holding onto his bicep so you wouldn’t fall over as tears formed in your eyes from how hard you were laughing. He wanted to engrave the image on his soul. At least he got your smile on paper.
You look up at him now, eyes filled with tears.
“You drew this?” you ask.
He nods softly. He can’t say it but he hopes the drawings convey how in love with you he is.
Suddenly, Logan feels like his heart has stopped beating.
You’re kissing him.
You’ve leaped up, wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, and now your lips are on his.
He feels your mouth falter, probably because he’s being a fucking idiot and not kissing you back. Logan places his hands on your waist to pull you further towards him. Then his brain finally catches up and he can do what he’s wanted to for so long.
He takes your chin with two fingers and angles you so you can kiss him easier. He closes his eyes and revels in the feeling of your soft, warm lips against him. You’re soft and warm all over. Your top has slipped up over his fingertips at your sides, and he slides his hands further around your back to support you against him even better.
Logan’s tongue pushes at your lower lip, and you let out the sexiest, tiny moan of surprise as you part your lips for him, granting him access.
His tongue touches the tip of yours and from then on your cravings intensify. You feel your way over his muscular shoulders, his big biceps and over the hard planes of his chest. When you’ve had a good feel there, your hands grip his shirt in desperation and Logan gets even hungrier for you. He gently bites at your lower lip, but then you shriek into his mouth and squirm out of his grasp. He opens his eyes wide.
You grip Logan’s forearm for support when you bend down in a panic, picking up the drawing you just dropped. You let out a big breath of relief when you see it hasn’t been damaged.
“You made me drop it!” You slap a hand to his chest; it doesn’t actually hurt and it’s not meant to, but it leaves a pleasant tingle behind instead.
“I didn’t do anything”, Logan laughs, and you shake your head at him with a smile.
You take him into your room where you make him sit on the bed while you stare at the new drawing in awe. “I didn’t know you draw”, you say without taking your eyes off it.
“No one else knows.”
You pretend to zip your lips, smiling, “It’s our secret.” Logan can tell that you like that. He likes it too. It feels much better to share a secret with you than to be keeping one from you.
“I’ll only draw for you anyway, so there’s no point in telling anyone else.”
“You’re really good. I love the drawings.”
Logan gives a satisfied hum at your words, “You inspired me. Can’t have you walking around all pretty and not expect me to try and recreate it.”
You straddle Logan and hover over his lap to hug him, “They’re the best thing anyone's ever given to me. Do I really look like that?” You say the last question more quietly, and Logan wraps his arms around your sides, careful not to bump your hand that’s still holding the drawing.
“You’re more gorgeous than anything I could ever capture, but I think it comes close. I didn’t change anything about you to make you more beautiful. I couldn’t if I tried. I just tried to draw you as accurately as possible, that’s why it’s so beautiful.”
“I really love it,” you say again, happily staring at the details of the drawing. Hearing you say the word love so much tempts Logan, but he doesn’t want to move too fast. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you. He does, however, want to kiss you again.
Logan carefully takes the framed drawing and puts it on your nightstand. You push your mouth against his before he can initiate the kiss, and he grins against your lips.
You don’t know how to put your feelings into words, so you’re kissing him instead. He pulls you down so that you’re not hovering over but sitting on his lap, and the mood immediately shifts to something different. Logan doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but if you’re ready then he’ll take anything he can get.
Your chest is pressed against Logan’s, and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest when he breathes. You may or may not be pressing your boobs against his body on purpose.
“God, baby, I’ve waited so long for this,” he says, already breathless, as his hands trail down your back, leaving goosebumps behind.
“You’ve waited long?” you raise your eyebrows, grinning, “I’ve wanted to fuck you since the day I met you.”
You see the look in Logan’s eyes changing as he bites his lip, “Who says I didn’t want the same?”
You giggle, “Why did it take us so long?”
Logan chuckles, readjusting you so that you’re even closer to him, “I was too busy to actually talk to you, just been starin’ at you so I could draw you.” His cheeks have the faintest red tint, and you kiss them, hugging him.
You whisper into his ear, “Then it was worth the wait. And anyway, it’s not talking that I’m interested in right now.”
He pulls you back to look into your eyes, then at your lips. “Where do you want me?” he asks. You giggle slightly helplessly; you weren’t entirely prepared to have a man like Logan at your mercy like this tonight.
“You can do whatever you want,” you say softly, kissing him.
Logan’s lips are hungry against yours, strings of spit falling between you two, but he pauses the kiss to lie you on your back. “Wanna eat you out,” he husks, “Been dying to know what you taste like forever, bub. Can I?” He reaches for the hem of your top, and you nod so that he can pull it off you, admiring what’s underneath.
“Sometimes I make myself cum imagining that I’m going down on you,” you confess somewhat shyly, but you figure he’s been so vulnerable for you that you can share a secret too.
Logan smirks, and pulls off his shirt, “Maybe we can make your dream come true then.”
You move to sit up, but he insists on eating you out first. You both take off all your clothes, staring at each other with huge smiles on your faces for a few moments. You’ve never seen Logan this happy.
“Look at you, baby. So pretty,” he leans down to kiss your lips, then down your neck, all the way to your legs. He spreads them, lying down between them as he all but drools at the sight of your wet pussy.
You get nervous all of a sudden. “It’s been a while,” you tell him. He looks up, taking your hand, enveloping it completely in his much bigger one.
“You sure about this? We can wait,” he gently kisses your knuckles, and a warmth spreads in your chest, slowing your heartbeat down a little.
“I’m sure,” you nod, and Logan comes up again to kiss you. The head of his hard cock catches against the space above your clit, and you both look down between your bodies. When Logan looks back up at you, his eyes are desperately begging you. You place your hand on his head, threading your fingers through his hair as he moves down your body.
“Such a pretty fucking pussy,” he mumbles into your thigh, kissing you there. You giggle, getting comfortable, your hand never leaving his hair.
Logan starts eating you out, his tongue gentle but determined against your clit.
“Taste so good, baby. Even better than I imagined.” You hum at Logan’s words, already feeling yourself come undone with his mouth on your wet pussy.
You sink further into the mattress when he starts sucking on your clit, licking into your pussy like a man starved every few moments, and your thighs squeeze around Logan’s head, and it’s even better than in his fantasies.
“Feels really good,” you tell him, pulling on his hair to stop yourself from moving too much, and Logan moans against your skin. Hearing your words motivates him even more, and he pushes two fingers into your wet pussy. He curls his fingers, rubbing up against that spot that makes you see stars.
Your back arches as you cum, Logan’s lips wrapped around your clit as your legs push harder against his head, and all he does is moan, revelling in the feeling.
Logan doesn’t stop licking your pussy until you’re tugging his head away by his hair, and he comes up for air with a grin on his face. You smile back, pulling him up to kiss him. You give yourself only a few seconds of recovery time before you make him sit down. You know you’d never have enough strength to actually make him get into a different position, but he lets you.
You push him onto his back, getting between his legs. You’re blinking up at him all prettily when you ask, “Can I suck your dick? Please?”
Logan huffs to himself because he can’t believe how hot you are, can’t believe that this is really finally happening. He tells you yes – he has no more words to describe how badly he wants this – and he watches you wrap your pretty lips around his cock.
It’s hard to grasp that it’s really you doing this right now – the woman he’s been into for so long. His cock is in your mouth and you look so gorgeous with spit running down from your lips, and all he can think of is all the dirty drawings he can now make of you, if you’ll let him.
He closes his eyes when you take him deeper, enveloping him with your warm, wet mouth. “Good girl,” he whispers absent-mindedly, too gone to say much more.
You’re not using your hands as you suck his cock, your spit trailing down on him, and you’re so eager. But it’s also late, and he sees you getting tired, eyes blinking slower as you pause to catch your breath every few moments. He also sees the determination in your eyes, and the absolute want, but he doesn’t want you to exhaust yourself.
You look so sexy all fucked out, strings of spit connecting your mouth to his cock as you pull away another time, giggling up at him shyly when you realise that he’s noticing you getting tired.
“Just need a second,” you wipe your mouth, out of breath, and it’s not that you’re not incredibly hot like this, but he still wants to fuck you tonight and he’s not sure that will happen if you keep going.
“C’mere, baby,” he says, reaching out his hand.
“Huh?” you ask, taking his hand nevertheless.
“Get back here, baby. I’m gonna fuck you now, alright? Don’t want you tiring yourself out.”
You let him lift you and put you on your back, but you pout, “Wanna taste you.”
Logan grins, “I’ll cum in your mouth, princess. Promise.”
You smile at his answer, satisfied, so you lie back down, pulling your legs up to your chest. His cock looks huge as he jerks himself off between your legs, rubbing the tip against your clit, making you squirm.
“Don’t know if I can take you,” you bite your lip. You’re not entirely sure if you mean it or not. You definitely want to try.
“We’ll make it fit, baby, we’ll make it fit,” Logan assures you, leaning down to press a kiss to your mouth, a mix of your wetness and his precum between your mouths. You feel his cock at your pussy, “You ready?”
“I’m ready,” you nod desperately, letting him push his cock into your pussy. He pauses after a few inches, but you wrap your legs around his waist more tightly, and he goes deeper.
“Y’okay, baby? You can take it, right?”
You nod, unable to form words with your pussy stretched like this, a combination of pleasure and pain between your legs – but it’s infinitely more pleasure.
“That’s right. You’re my good girl, hm?” He kisses along your neck as he bottoms out, and you both moan when he’s got his cock fully stuffed inside you for the first time. He pulls out slightly when you whine at the stretch, but you scratch down his back to get his attention.
“I can take it,” you tell him, and you watch the look in his eyes darken.
He begins to fuck you, the pain subsiding more with every thrust into your wet pussy. You can barely take him, but it feels good. With your slight tiredness, you feel like you’re floating on cloud nine.
You can’t believe that Logan – your super hot friend Logan who you’ve been fantasising about for so long – is fucking you. He not only feels the same way about you, but he’s been your secret admirer this entire time, taking hours and hours out of his day to make you smile. You’re the only one he wants.
And now he’s fucking you, fucking you well, and you feel so warm inside, not just from the sex but you feel warm in your heart, because of Logan’s care.
“You okay?” he asks, stroking a hand down your face when he notices you’re not entirely present. You nod happily, smiling up at him, and you can’t talk because you feel so good.
“Good, that’s good, bub, but let me know if it gets too much,” he says as he starts rubbing your clit, watches you nod while he’s fucking you so well, and he’s so big and so deep inside of you, “Squeezing me so tight, baby, feel so fucking good.”
You cum suddenly, letting the warm pleasure flow through your body as Logan keeps fucking you through it, rubbing your clit in just the right rhythm.
“That’s my girl, taking it so well,” he moans, breaths stuttering. You slump against the pillow after a few moments, with a soft smile on your face, and Logan pulls out.
“Gonna make me cum, baby,” he jerks his cock, and you sit up on your elbows immediately, looking him in the eyes with a smile as you stick out your tongue for him. He promised.
Logan moans when he cums, painting your face in his release, jerking himself off. He holds your head in place with his other hand, aiming for your mouth but you’re making no effort to catch his cum there.
“Such a pretty fucking face, princess, ’m cumming all over it,” he rasps, shooting more ropes of his cum all over your cheeks, jacking off onto your face.
You open your eyes when he’s done and breathing heavily, and you smile up at him. You open your mouth, taking the head of his cock between your lips to suck off the last drops of cum.
“Look at you, baby. Look so fucking pretty with my cum all over your gorgeous face.”
You hum, pulling your mouth off him and licking your lips, tasting his salty release. You brush a finger over your cheek, sucking it into your mouth to taste him more. Logan kisses you then, the flavour of himself mixing between your mouths.
He cleans you up gently, carefully wiping your face with a baby wipe and kissing every inch of your cheeks afterwards. You take his face to kiss him properly, and if you didn’t seem so tired Logan would be ready for round two immediately.
“Next time you could try to actually cum in my mouth,” you tease, making Logan grin.
“Sorry, baby. Got too excited. Couldn’t focus on asking you again if it was okay.” He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your lips.
“It’s okay,” you tell him, “I liked it.”
Logan grins, “Oh I could tell you liked it, baby.” You lightly slap his chest as you giggle, pulling him in for another kiss.
You cuddle for a while, not saying much because you don’t have to. You’ve both waited for this for so long that you’re just enjoying the moment, enjoying that it finally happened.
You slip out of his arms to sit on top of him. You’re in nothing but panties, the blanket bunching around your hips. You lean your hands against his chest as you tell him more about how much the drawings delighted you. And Logan cares, of course he cares to hear that, but he’s also just a man seeing the woman he’s into naked for the first time still.
You become quiet when you realise that he’s not listening, and you giggle, “Distracted?”
Logan grins, “Just a little fucking bit, baby.” His eyes don’t leave your body, and you laugh as you bend down to kiss him. He grabs your ass, kneading the flesh. When you slightly sit up again, your tits are near his face, and he can’t help himself. He cups your breasts, playing with your nipples, making you hum.
“I should draw these,” he looks up at you, “Should draw every perfect fucking inch of you.”
“You wanna?” You adjust how you’re seated in his lap, and you feel that he’s already half hard under you again.
“Maybe after I’ve fucked you again.”
You smile, feeling yourself growing wetter on top of him.
“Tomorrow,” he continues, and your smile drops.
“But you’ve got to get more familiar with the inspiration, right? If you’re going to draw me.”
“That’s true, baby. But I think you’re too tired.”
You smile bashfully, ignoring how your eyelids were drooping shut just a few seconds ago, “Okay, but then I’ll have more energy for tomorrow.”
“That’s my girl,” he smiles, pulling you off him to cuddle you again. He tucks you in and kisses your head.
You turn to your side, taking one of the framed drawings and looking at it for a while.
Logan watches you looking at it, and the sparkle in your eyes never fails to make him feel all warm inside. “Now that you actually know about it, I don’t have to draw you from memory anymore. I can study my muse in peace.”
“Aww, I’m your muse?” you beam.
“Of course you are, princess. You’re the only reason I’m drawing again.”
“I love your drawings so much.”
Logan clears his throat, and looks at you. “Well, I love you. So, I think that went into them.”
You look at him, pouting and then kissing him. “I love you too,” you say into his mouth. He grins against your lips, pulling you closer to kiss you some more. He can barely grasp that you just said that, but he’ll have enough time soon to comprehend how lucky he is.
For now, he takes your hand, and asks, “The question might be redundant now, but do you wanna be mine? Be my girlfriend?”
“I’m already yours.”
Logan grins, takes you in his arms, and you’re still cuddling when you’re both drifting off to a peaceful sleep.
P.S. reblog with a comment and let me know your favourite moment/what you liked to get a drawing from Logan under your door tonight and a facial <33
gorgeous divider by @pommecita
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@ghouljams the worms are worming. . . I was listening to Depeche Mode today and Personal Jesus reminded me of your cult leader Price AU and it just has a death grip in my brain. . . All I could think of the whole song was Price manspreading in a chair with Ghost, Soap, and Gaz posed around him in dramatic backlighting, doing his biding to keep his cult in check.
Price is obviously cult leader, we get it, we know it, he's so charismatic and clever and manipulative and influential we know we know we know.
Thinking of what the other boys roles would be in this whole thing though. . .
Gaz is definitely the person on the outside clocking discontented people and setting in hooks. Absolutely gorgeous man, charismatic as fuck, endearing and non-threatening (at first glance), such blinding loyalty that he is able to see and interact with the outside world and not be tempted to leave. This simultaneously makes him adjusted enough to 'normal' life that he gives off very little red flags when inviting people in. He's also the person who befriends the new follower and makes sure that they're only seeing what they're supposed to, and vetting if they'd be impressionable enough to add to the flock. Testing their resistance to peer pressure, vetting them and making sure they're impressionable enough.
Soap is the listening ear on the inside. His job is to ingratiate himself amongst the followers and report any findings to Price, both good and bad. So not only is he keeping an eye out for disloyalty, plans to leave, discontent, etc. but he's also looking out for personal things like lost personal possessions, low stakes concerns, anything that Price can use to give individuals 'personal' time with him that makes him seem attentive or even slightly omniscient to the more spiritual followers.
Ghost's job is really to be that of a smoke screen. He is very visibly Price's 'right hand man', outwardly intimidating and such a hard ass on rule following that he acts as a force pushing followers to the sphere of Gaz and Soap. Because they couldn't be that close to Price, right? No one but Ghost is. So surely they're safe talking about their doubts and confusion, as long as Ghost is out of earshot. I feel like he also makes Price more valuable by making him more unobtainable. Unless Price comes to you, you need to seek an audience with him through Ghost. And 99% of the time even if you do get to see Price, Ghost will be there. At least that's what people say anyway. Price definitely isn't telling everyone that he's 'made an exception just for them' and that 'this'll be a secret between the two of them'. Definitely not.
I have this notion that it would be one of those self sufficiency communes that has their own internal ecosystem, growing their own food, making their own clothes, etc etc. They would send the well behaved followers to set up a stall at the nearby towns farmers market to keep up appearances and make sure that nobody in the town really bothers them. Who gives a shit what the group of farmers in the middle of nowhere are doing when their produce costs next to nothing and tastes divine? Maybe they should go out there some time and see what it's like. . .maybe learn how to take care of a plant or two of their own? And you've always wanted to learn how to do pottery, the cute guy on the corner says they're hosting a class this weekend. . . . . . . . . .
#mw2#mwii#cod#price#ghost#soap#gaz#john price#simon ghost riley#simon riley#john soap mactavish#john mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick#tf 141#cult au
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WHO'S THE PRETTY GIRL?
The Blue Lock players were expecting a lot from the Neo-Egoist League, but what they did not expect was the fact that their manager would attract the eyes of their masters enough for them to ask them about her.
Notes: Reader is implied a female and is in her mid-20s (25 to 27, but whatever age works for you guys). The Blue Lock boys loves Reader platonically, almost like their older sister. The love interests are of course the Masters (except Loki)
LAVINHO
"Coach-! Ehh..?"
Bachira stopped in his tracks as he entered the door to the field. Unfortunately for him, Otoya and Kitsunezato followed suit and bumped into the boy.
"Ow man, what's wrong with you?"
Otoya, who got the brunt of it due to hitting his nose on Bachira's head, complained. Meanwhile, Kitsunezato just tilted his head as to why Bachira just stayed in his place.
"Bachira-san? What's wrong?"
Bachira then slowly tilted his head. His golden eyes looked at the scene in front of him where you, their manager, talked quite amicably with the Spanish Coach.
This was not much of a surprise to any of them, for you always tried your best to get involved in the boys' training to make sure they were improving while also having ample time to rest. You always reasoned how they were still in their teens and needed proper guidance with a proper and mature adult (since Ego can't really be trusted on that part), so you talking to the masters were no surprise.
What got Bachira, and in turn Otoya and Kitsunezato, raising eyebrows was the fact that for the first time in, like, forever since they met him, Lavinho was quiet. His mouth was zipped, zilched, as he just looked and listened to whatever you were saying.
Lavinho was a man very passionate in his craft, and there are many times where he would say his own input when it comes to the sport, with cheerful countenance too. But, at that moment, he was as quiet as a stone.
"The hell is up with him?"
Bachira asked quite curiously. Kitsunezato just shrugged while Otoya formed a small smirk, seeing how not only was Lavinho quiet in front of you, but the man was also a little too close to you. Adding to that, Lavinho's eyes were literally ogling you, which the white haired striker did not like.
Otoya was all too familiar when it came to flirting and the look of attraction, and man, was his coach making it quite obvious he found you, their manager, attractive.
"Oh lord, not this again."
Bachira turned to Otoya, completely oblivious.
"What?"
"Can't you guys see? Coach is making goo-goo eyes on our manager. He's too obvious, geez."
Kitsunezato only let out an "oh" of understanding. Meanwhile, it took Bachira a while to get what Otoya was saying, and by the time he realized, you were already gone from the field.
"WAIT- YOU MEAN-! NOOOOOO!!"
The two other players jumped at Bachira's sudden outburst, as the boy sprinted to where Lavinho was still stuck on his position, standing up, hands on the Football basket as if it was his only support.
"What? Yo, Bachira-"
"NO! YOU CAN'T BE WITH HER, COACH! I WON'T ALLOW IT! YOU'RE NOT GONNA MAKE Y/N-SAN HAPPY! LEAVE HER ALONE!"
Lavinho was taken aback at the sudden frowning face of Bachira. He got what the boy was talking about as he pulled up a mischievous smirk.
"Hey, you don't know that, blondie. I can treat her well ya know?"
But Bachira was not having it. He loved you like a sister, and there was no way he would allow you to date someone who can not make you happy.
Otoya sighed and held the scruff of Bachira's sweater as the boy tried to struggle like a feral cat. Kitsunezato then spoke out.
"Didn't you just meet her, coach?"
"Yeah, but can't I appreciate a beauty? Especially one with brains like hers. Beautiful women are attractive, yes, but when they're smart and have their own original opinions, they become hotter in my eyes."
Otoya chuckled at that, Bachira became even more feral, like a child in Otoya's hold while Kitsunezato sighed at this.
"Sheesh, what did she even say to you?"
"I asked her about many things and suggestions in your guys' training, and well, her answers are very fun and interesting, to say the least. Do one of you have her number? I didn't get it from her earlier."
Bachira just shook his head violently, for he had your number and refused to give up your info to his coach.
CHRIS PRINCE
"Yo, Reo. Have you seen Prince?"
Reo turned to Chigiri, who had just entered the training field. It was yet another day of training in the English Stratum. Most of the players are scattered in the facility to do their own training from the regime given to them, leaving Reo, Nagi, and now, Chigiri alone in the field.
Nagi laid out on the grass of the field as him and Reo rested for a bit. The purple-haired player tried to recall where he had seen the English Master.
"Hmm, I remember him saying that he had a meeting with Ego along with the rest of the masters. Maybe he hasn't come back from it yet?"
"Really? Hmm, I guess I'll just wait for him here."
"Go on."
The three remained in the field, Nagi slowly snoring away in the grass as Reo and Chigiri watched a recording of their previous plays on a tablet. It was all quiet until the door to the training field opened, revealing Chris Prince, who probably just came from his meeting.
"Oh, good thing you guys are here! I actually wanted to ask you guys something!"
The blonde man grinned as he put his arm around Chigiri and Reo, one for each player as the two raised an eyebrow at him. They knew he was eccentric and a bit...touchy, but he never did this before. Reo then decided to speak.
Chris pulled out his phone, whistling innocently.
"What is it?"
"Do one of you know or have your manager's number?"
"Yes, we three have it. Why?" Chigiri responded, and that made the grin on the professional player's face widen.
"Great! Can you put it in my phone?"
Now that made the two blink as Chris threw his phone in Reo's hands where the phone app was already open. Reo grew a bit more suspicious of this.
"And why do you need Y/n-san's phone number? You two just met in the meeting, I'm sure of it."
The man shrugged, but it was obvious to the two that he was hiding something.
'Weird, I feel like I'm having deja vu...oh wait-'
Chigiri suddenly remembered one certain group of professionals asking him the same thing back in the second selection. The redhead's once curious expression turned into a bored and rather done expression. He then raised his arm and pulled a way from his master's hold.
"Nope, I already know what you want Y/n-san's number for."
"Oh, come on, Hyoma. Don't be like that! I'm not that bad-"
"I'll be the judge of that. Besides, don't you have fangirls? I don't want Y/n-san to be with someone who'll be a hassle to be with."
Reo added, finally getting the implications. He wondered what the coach heard or saw from you for him to immediately ask them for your number. Reo always knew you were beautiful, kind, and responsible. That's why most, if not all, the players in the facility trusted and are quite attached to you, viewing you as some sort of maternal and comforting figure that Blue Lock can not provide alone.
But, he was interested in how you managed to reel in the attention of the second best striker in the world. And, so he did ask, and boy, did he, along with Chigiri who listened regretted. Chris just started to tell them about how not only were you a sight for sore eyes, but absolutely smart and egoistic in your own right even as a manager. About how, even if you had that side to you, when you were not talking about football, you were very kind, caring and very open.
Chigiri responded, his words made a hollow, almost bitter chuckle from the professional player's mouth.
"Yeah, Y/n-san is amazing, but you rave about her like it's your first time meeting a genuinely good person."
"When you are in the spotlight, most people you meet tend to have ulterior motives, and even, different personalities. It's attractive to see a woman both passionate about her craft yet still serious about her morals."
Reo sighed, agreeing to what his master said. But, he was a bit miffed that there was another guy they had to watch out for. He could not help but let out a sigh.
'Y/n-san, you attract the most troublesome guys around here.'
MARC SNUFFY
"Is it just me, or does he look quite distracted with Y/n-san?"
Niko innocently commented as he, Aryu, Barou, and Oliver, watched their master and manager talk from afar while doing their stretching. It has been a few days since the Neo-Egoist League commenced, and everyone in the facility became busier than ever.
You, being the manager, of course, were one of the busiest as you tried your best to take care of all the 5 stratums with only a little help from other staff members due to their own jobs. It was hard, but you always managed for the boys. So that is why you find yourself currently talking to the foreign coach, asking about the improvements of the Blue Lockers who are under his wing currently.
"Hah? So what? She's talking to him, so of course he'll listen."
Barou said in his usual rough tone, with a hint of confusion as to why Niko had to point that out. Oliver on the other hand, just smirked.
"Ah-ah, you don't understand, though, Your majesty. The look in our dear master striker's eyes is something you can only see in the eyes of someone feeling something to someone whom they are talking to."
"That was just confusing." Niko quipped.
"What are you even proposing?" Barou raised an eyebrow.
"What if, Snuffy-san, over there...likes her?" Oliver smirked. His claim immediately made Barou roll his eyes before walking away, not believing it. Niko and Aryu only tilted their heads in confusion, not seeing their master as someone who would fall in love or even have a trivial crush on someone he just met a few weeks ago.
"You probably hit your damn head, dumbass."
"I don't think he's like you, Aiku." Niko commented, making the defender mutter an "Oi," before moving on with the topic.
"It's just, I've been hearing gossips from the other stratums that the master's have been...a little too close to our manager these past few weeks. Who knows?"
"And praytell, where the hell did you hear this from?" Barou asked.
"From Otoya and Chigiri-"
"Not surprised. You three are quite the gossipers." Niko added.
"Very glam yet not at the same time."
"Well duh, of course. Have you not seen their coaches? Childish as hell. Ours ain't all like them." Barou rolled his eyes.
"You have a point. But hey, I said it here. If you all are wrong, you owe me."
They turned back to you and Snuffy and saw that you were already bidding your goodbye to the master coach, your phone between your ear, probably another one of your managerial and staffly responsibilities, they didn't know, but it was quite common to see you run about the halls of the facility.
Snuffy soon joined them, waiting for the rest of the players on the field since it was still quite early and training was to start in a few more minutes. The other four Blue Lockers only being there due to a plan they formulated and wanted to reenact before practice.
They see the coach looking quite happily down at his phone, seemingly satisfied with what he was seeing as he typed away on it. With the four players feeling quite curious as to why he had such...an abnormally happy grin, they approached Snuffy to ask, and suffice it to say, they were a little bit surprised with what he said next.
"It's nothing, I'm just happy Miss Y/n finally gave me her number, although it is under the guise of talking about you, Blue Lockers, and your training. It's still worth it."
"Y/n-san's number?" Niko asked to which the coach nodded.
"Yes, I wanted to get to know her more, is all. I wanted to ask some of you about her, but I reckoned it's better to get to know her myself and at the same time, get closer to her. It's like killing two birds with one stone."
"That is glamourously...logical." Aryu commented.
"What do you mean by get to know her more?" Niko asked.
"Hm? I meant in a more personal level. Oh, by the way, I heard most of you are quite close to her, especially you, Niko, since she always talks about you. Can you tell me what the things she likes are? I would prefer to know it now, just to be advanced."
The boys were taken aback by the question, their thoughts running wildly, but all of them were all thinking the same thing.
'I didn't know he could be that smooth when it comes to women...' The Blue Lockers sweatdropped in their minds.
NOEL NOA
"So, was no one planning to tell me that our master is dating Y/n-san?"
Yukimiya entered the canteen where the rest of the Blue Lockers under Bastard Munchen were having their dinner. As usual, it was quite loud with Raichi yelling nonsense at Gagamaru, while Isagi tried to pull him away. Kurona, Hiori, and Kiyora were the only ones quiet in their own seats, eating their food away.
Isagi raised an eyebrow, his hold on Raichi loosening as his eyes were focused on Yukimiya, or rather, the brunette's words.
"Huh? Y/n-san and Noel Noa dating? Where did you hear that from? I didn't know."
It was not just Isagi who got their attentione peaked. The rest of Blue Lock players also were quite curious as to how and why Yukimiya thought that the striker was dating you, their manager.
"I saw him asking her about a restaurant in Tokyo. It kinda sounds like they, or mostly Noa-san were planning a date."
"Huh? Now that I think about it, Noa-san has been quite close with Y/n-san lately." Hiori said, thinking back to the past weeks ever since the Neo-Egoist League started.
"Whatever it is, I think we shouldn't really get involved. Their personal and dating life is none of pur business anyways." Isagi sighed as he started to eat his own food. After all, most of them had a lot on their plates already too.
With training, the League, Blue Lock as a whole, and the upcoming U-20 World Cup, it was a little hard to find gaps or time to care about trivial things not concerning them.
But, that mindset immediately vanished after a few days later, when they saw Noel Noa, the best striker in the world, known for his stoicism and cold logic on and off the field. A man who can keep his cool and straightforward attitude any second of the day, seemingly panicking inwardly as his eyes scanned his phone.
Turns out, he did not get to save your number, the one you kindly punched in for him the past week (he pretended to get it for the sake of the Neo-Egoist League and the Blue Lock players of course), and well, since you were kind of an elusive figure most times of the day, having so many responsibilities, he did not know where else to communicate with you.
Sure, he can use the management system given to the masters to call for your assistance, but those are used in emergencies, and he did not want to disturb or scare you, thinking that something wrong happened when he just wanted to speak with you, in a more casual terms.
Nope, he was not illogical and irresponsible like that. So, instead, he finally let his pride down a bit and went to his players to ask something that shocked most of them.
"Can I get your manager's number?"
Nothing was heard except Raichi spitting out water from his water bottle on the grass the training field provided. Isagi, who was the one Noa asked, just blinked at his master's question or, rather, request due to the tone of his voice.
"Um, sure. I can put it in for you, Noa-san."
The albino man only nodded his head and gave the boy his phone. Isagi, meanwhile, was taken quite a back, his expression one of disbelief and resignation.
'Well, Its not like this is the first time someone asked us for Y/n-san's number anyways.'
Compared to Isagi, the rest of the Bastard Munchen players were less calm about it. Raichi's mouth, along with Kurona's were still wide. Yukimiya was blinking, eyes wide in disbelief as if he was hallucinating, and Hiori who had literal spirals for his eyes, the situation making him feel quite dizzy.
"I never knew, he can be like...this."
"Me neither." Hiori responded to the shocked claim Yukimiya said, not used to the master of the German team acting like this.
"Well, I mean, are we even surprised? This feels like the World 5 incident all over again." Kiyora, who just arrived, sat with them, remembering the ending of the 2nd selection where they met and faced international players, and needless to say, most of them were not even hiding the fact they found you attractive and wanted your details.
"Right, right, I forgot about that." Kurona muttered. But, Yukimiya just ended things with a shrug, watching Isagi give the coach his phone before running off to join the rest of them.
"Well, it is a shock. But, its not like we can do anything about it. Y/n-san is just like that, she attracts the most...um, diverse people to her. Probably, the reason why she also has a lot of fans worldwide."
The rest nodded, returning to their training, knowing deep down that, no matter how much they wanted to fight off the men who were interested in you, it cannot be helped when their manager was just someone like you, and they would never ever change you for the world.
After all, you are the elder sister figure they did not know they needed in this asylum-like facility and no professional football player who is attracted to you, can change that.
BONUS!
"Hmm, I think with the power of Y/n-chan alone, we can convince the rest of the World 5 players before to come again-" Anri tried to recommend only to be given a heavy glare by Ego, who found the idea less than appealing.
"No, these four are enough of a headache to be around her. I don't need Blue Lock TV turning into a dating show."
"..."
"I know you're jealous, but-"
"Just do your work, Anri-chan. That way, we can get this thing over with."
With that, the woman shrugged and left the room, heading off to find you to hopefully ask for your help in other work around the facility.
ADDITIONAL TIME!
Y/n: Hello, I am the manager of Blue Lock-
The Masters and the World 5: Already off to buy the ring, prepare our future house, adopting 6 cats and planning our retirement days and building our coffins together. Anything else we're forgetting?
Blue Lockers: Yes. The fact that you literally just met her?
The Masters and the World 5: ...
The Masters and the World 5: I fail to see the problem with that-
This is based off of that small headcannon I posted a few months ago (i think?) And well, this took me a while to post but I finally finished it lol. By the way, this Y/n is different from the other manager Y/n from my previous post. That Y/n is a minor (15, 16 or 17, depending on you, reader) and her lpve interests are the minor characters. While this Y/n is an adult and here love interests are the adult players and characters. Like I said, when I say Masters and World 5 in this, I only mean the adult ones, not Loki. Loki is the love interest of Minor Manager Y/n sooo yeah! Hope you enjoy!
Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.
#blue lock#bllk#bllk x reader#blue lock x reader#blue lock x manager!reader#lavinho#lavinho x reader#chris prince#chris prince x reader#marc snuffy#snuffy x reader#noel noa#noel noa x reader#ego jinpachi#ego x reader#bllk lavinho#bllk chris prince#bllk snuffy#bllk noel noa#bllk ego#aninipanin1#adult manager!reader
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dbf!Joel headcanons
warnings: big, though unspecified age gap, 18+ (as always)
note: Uni has been kicking my ass, so I’ve only had time for some headcanons lately. This Joel is very sweet, but I’m open to writing sleazy or dark Joel, too! If you have requests for any headcanons, I will be able to write them even during this stressful time. Full fics will take me a while longer. Enjoy reading, my loves <3 and feel free to add stuff!
He doesn’t really know how to cook well and mostly eats his faves every day but when you stay over more and more he makes an effort to learn and actually finds out he really likes it
Whatever pressure your parents put on you, he relieves it by accepting it rather than trying to fix it for you — you can just exist around him without expectation
He worries the age difference means you don’t have much to talk about, so he watches your favourite show that you mentioned and although it certainly wouldn’t have been his first pick, it lets him unwind. He likes watching something he knows you’ve watched and loved when you’re not around, it makes him feel closer to you
When he first starts looking at you differently he blue balls himself so as not to disrespect you — when he has sex with someone to relieve himself, he accidentally says your name to them
He keeps a polaroid of you in his wallet and cashiers wonder why he smiles at his debit card so much
He finds it hard to stay friends with your dad, because it makes him feel weird about this dynamic with you. He distances himself from your parents after they react badly to the news of your relationship, not because of guilt or cowardice, but because he doesn’t tolerate how they treat you
He thought he would hate the gossip after the two of you go public, but when you do, he finds himself imagining knocking you up just so everyone knows what he does to you. He opts for lots of hickeys until kids might be a possibility, but that doesn’t stop him from pretending you don’t have an IUD when he finishes inside of you
He loves when you wear his clothes, but when you forget your scarf at his place he wears it and enjoys that just as much — it smells like you and he likes the idea of people being able to tell it’s somebody else’s
When he figures out how much you like him talking to you during sex, he starts using the same voice/phrases in public to get you flustered & wet for him
He keeps everything that reminds him of you, like parking tickets etc. He doesn’t do anything with those things, doesn’t put them in a box, so they linger around his house, reminding him of you the way photographs would, except more privately
He starts “putting in an effort” for you when you start dating: styling his hair & wearing clothes he thinks you would prefer, until you tell him you like nothing more than his flannels and band tees and jeans, and although he doesn’t tell you, he’s beyond relieved. He realises you like him for him
When you tell your parents, Joel asks your father to hit him because “he knows he deserves it”. With time he learns he also deserves your kisses and smiles. Those things coexist within him, he thinks both are true
Despite completely supporting you in your pursuit of a degree & career, he likes when you’re on holiday, waiting around for him in his house wearing nothing but a pair of panties he bought for you & one of his hoodies. During those lazy weeks, he fucks you morning, afternoon, and night: before he leaves, when he gets home, and right before you go to sleep
He buys you a ring during the first week of dating because you mentioned how much you like it. He doesn’t give it to you until he knows you feel certain about him — he doesn’t want to freak you out. Still, even before that, he sometimes looks at it in its little black box and envisions it on your finger
During your first couple of “public dates” (neighbourhood barbecue where your parents are present etc.) he refrains from touching you much, although everyone knows about your relationship. You have to take his hand and initiate small touches for him to feel more comfortable
It takes him a short while, but then he loves being able to touch you in front of people: a hand on your lower back, an arm across your shoulder, his fingers lacing through yours, him pulling your back against his front and wrapping his arms around you. People stare sometimes (your Dad breaks one or two wine glasses in his hand), but Joel stops caring when he sees how happy it makes you
He tells you that you can change things about his home, that it should feel like your place, too and asks if you want to go shopping for “candles and stuff”, but you love being in a space that feels completely like him. It’s not how your apartment looks, but it makes you feel at ease, like you’re somehow living inside of him
Before he tells you he loves you, he whispers it in your ear when you’re sleeping, hoping your subconscious will somehow pick up on it. When he does tell you while you’re awake for the first time, it’s during breakfast. You stub your toe, and let out a string of curses you must have picked up on from him, and while he presses ice against your foot, kneeling in front of you, he smiles up and tells you: I love you.
The first time you sleep over at his house after he spent the night in your apartment, two brand new bottles of the shampoo and conditioner you use are in his shower. You thank him and jokingly ask why he didn’t buy your shower gel, too. He kisses you and tells you he likes when you smell like him.
He likes making you come more times than you thought you could — something about moving in and out of you while you tell him you can’t do it again, that you’re done, and then watching you fall apart on his cock anyway, thrills him to the bone. It makes him feel powerful, but part of it is knowing you let him fuck you without expecting an orgasm, that him being inside of you is enough for you to feel good
He doesn’t tell you, but he adds your name to his car insurance, so that you can drive it whenever you want
When you figure it out you give him road head every time the two of you drive somewhere — until he almost crashes the car and he forbids you to tempt him while he’s behind the wheel
He’s so nervous he asks Tommy for help when picking out a birthday gift for you — Tommy goes overboard and the gift turns out to be something completely ridiculous like a pair of huge earrings you would never wear. You tell Joel you don’t need a big fuss to feel loved by him. At night, he gives you a present he’s been wanting to give you for a while: he plays you a song he wrote for you on his guitar. It’s quiet and simple and so perfect you cry for half an hour
He doesn’t sleep well when you’re not around, and loves being close to you at night. If he could, he’d sleep nestled inside of you after a round of lazy midnight sex every night
As much as Tommy annoys him, it makes him happy to see how well you two get along. When you become actual friends with Tommy and hang out with him on your own, he’s more than pleased: the two people he loves the most in the world have become close
He would never ask it of you, but when you tell him you have stopped masturbating because he fucks you so often, it pleases him deeply. He likes being the only source of your pleasure. When you are apart for a while because of work/collage etc., he buys you a toy he can control from his phone
He tells Tommy he thinks he’s going to marry you during the first month of dating, which you find out about only on your wedding day during Tommy’s speech
#joel miller x reader#mine#my writing#joel miller game#joel miller#joel miller x you#the last of us part 1#tlou1#joel miller x y/n#dbf!joel#dbf!joel x reader#joel miller headcanons#Joel miller smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters
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This is exactly what happens to Medea after DAI. The closure of the Breach, the use of the orb, Solas- someone who probably helped with the mark -leaving. All of this culminating into the Mark literally pulling at her mentally and physically.
And she can barely rely on anyone except Vivienne and Dorian as they are mages. But Vivienne is busy as the Divine and Dorian is slowly getting busier with Tevintar now that the Venatori have fled.
Medea does tell them of her situation, but she just does not tell them the full extent, and she just suffers through it. Cullen doesn't even know as she hides it well by going off on missions constantly, mostly to search for Solas cause he's the only one who really knows what's going on with the Mark.
It's only at a certain point that Vivenne and Dorian realized how destroyed she is, losing weight, barely sleeping, even breaking up with Cullen cause she just cannot let him see her in this state that they both realized how destroyed she is. They try so damn hard to revert the damage, search everywhere for a solution, to mitigate the effects of the Mark but either they just don't have the information or Medea refuses their help. To see the woman who would easily be at their side to just refuse to let them be at hers?
They are mad, furious even, but what can they do or say when they don't even have a solution?
i need everyone to consider vivienne and dorian bonding over taking care of the inquisitor after the end of dragon age inquisition as the mark progressively gets worse and worse. vivienne with her past of watching bastien get sicker and sicker and dorian doing the same with felix, and seeing it repeat with the inquisitor. take my hand 🖐,,
#dragon age inquisition#medea lavellan#vivienne de fer#dorian pavus#i am sorry for hijacking this post but i had to add this tidbit for myself
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any updates on our prehistoric friend?
being kidnapped by a metal dinosaur is the dream of some, nightmare of others I'd assume XD. and an induced fever dream for the Grimlock fans. lol
Sure! Yeah, his human isn’t loving it right now
Shiver Pt 3
Grimlock x Reader
��� That soft voice chains the confusion and anger, making him feel more like himself. Like before. Venting against you, he tips his head and carefully grips your leg in his jaws to tug you closer. And no matter how careful he is, you start screaming again and kick him in the face with the other leg. Growling a warning, he ducks his head and gets a better grip on your torso and carries you to the door of the cabin, head lowering to gently drop you as you scramble away until you hit the door. Nudging you gently, he vents again. “Run, Grimlock chase,” he warns, tail swaying behind him. Because there’s an appeal in that, in running you down and catching you again. Backing up slightly, he watches you stand and fumble at the door. Yelping when you get it open and nearly fall inside, the door slamming behind you. Huffing, he curls himself about the cabin.
• Foot sliding, you stagger and almost fall. There’s enough light filtering in from the holes in the rotten roof to see that you stepped on a handful of spent shell casings. Heart racing, little details snag at you. The little table overturned near the door. Sheets dragged into the floor near the army style cot in a corner. A dropped box of shells, unused ones littering the floor. Shuddering, you make your way to the cot. Who’d been here before you? Did they get away? There’s not much useful left behind despite the previous owner leaving in a hurry, but you do find a battery powered lantern and turn it on. Skin prickling as you catch a glimpse of Grimlock outside the one window, those baleful yellow optics staring while you drag the cot into the very center of the room and cover the thin moldering mattress with the sheets so you can sit on it. Staring at the closed door and wondering how far you’d get. He has to sleep sometime. Right?
• Drifting in and out of recharge, he’s dimly aware of a branch cracking in the woods. A distant crash. Those spindly four legged things running from another hunter? Lip lifting to show sharp denta, he rumbles. He’s chased them sometimes, always letting them escape. Fun, but they can’t speak to him like you can. Knows you’re frightened, but he just wants someone to talk to even though it’s so hard for him. Someone who doesn’t only see a weapon to be wielded in an endless war.
• A scream rings out in the night and your breath catches. A cougar or panther? You’ve always heard they sound like a person screaming. But then you hear someone scream for ‘help’ and your heart races. Dust rains down on you as Grimlock moves against the cabin and then roars to make you clap your hands over your ears, the lantern hitting the floor and rolling. There’s a crash from outside. Screaming, roaring, and explosions. The military come to the rescue? Except the sounds eventually die down and you shudder as Grimlock’s optic appears at the window, searching until he finds you. Did he just eat someone?
• Good. Still there, staring up at him with wide eyes. Venting, he rubs his muzzle against the side of the cabin to make it creak. Still irritated at the Insecticons invading his space. They’d been chasing a little human, but he’d let them take them, unwilling to pursue and possibly lose his own. Tries not to think about what might become of that human, because there’s something very wrong with the Insecticons. A ravenous hunger and willingness to devour anything and everything. Not just energon. Saving that human might mean losing you, though. And he needs that soft voice of yours to help him think. Keep him calm.
Previous
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zosan fic idea with a dash of pudding love:
not long post-series, Sanji is working on setting up his own restaurant on the All Blue, with the idea that once everything is built and set up he'll leave it under Zeff's management while Sanji continues to travel as a Strawhat - he's still in his prime, not ready to settle down yet, and wants to be with his nakama! so the crew hangs around while he works and/or helps (Franky is the main shipwright for the new restaurant, Robin's helping scout or interview cooks/employees, Nami's helping set the accounting up, etc.).
enter: Pudding - she spent so long under big mom's control, but is finally free to choose how she wants to live... so when she hears Sanji's looking for cooks, she jumps at the opportunity! its a chance to find herself, completely outside of her family's domain, where she isnt shackled by her past! but its also because she knows Sanji is completely genuine and would never hold anything against her... he makes her feel safe. even if he doesn't stay, its ok. like living under the protection of an emperor, she knows shes safe in his restaurant.
and sue her, she knows she doesn't stand a chance with him (the Strawhat's will ALWAYS come first), but she can crush on her own private time!
Sanji is of course surprised at her wanting to work at his restaurant, and after some short deliberation, decides to hire her. she is an absolutely fabulous and skilled chocolatier in her own right, one of the best (something he does know first hand), and look, he's not Zeff - he doesn't need to kick everyone to run his ship, so there's no issue there XD
the other Strawhats are a little shocked or skeptical, but they trust his judgement... however this doesn't stop Nami from moaning to the others about her concerns and Puddings behavior back at WCI.
this makes Zoro, protective nakama and jealous Sanji lover in denial that he is, is every bit the grouchy guard dog around Pudding. he can clearly see she has a thing for the cook, but he doesn’t trust her worth a damn... so he hangs around like to moss that he is, constantly watching her to make sure theres no funny business
what he doesn't expect is for her and the cook to hit it off like old friends. theyre constantly together talking about.... cook things, working on the restaurant, with the other chefs, nailing down a menu plan, hell, she even seems to be getting along with Zeff! yet that old bastard gives Zoro stink-eyes all the damn time (you bleed out on a guys poarch ONE TIME-)!
it drives him up the fucking wall. his only reprieve is that eventually everything will be set up and they'll leave the restaurant and Pudding behind to continue their adventures.
except, slowly, doubt and anxiety starts to build up
what if the cook changes his mind? what if his new found friendship with his former bride reignites something? what if he realizes just how well suited Pudding is for him and decides to marry her for real?!
what if he decides to stay?!
and it actually terrifies Zoro a little. hes not ready to part from him! he thought he had more time to pine silently and bother the cook to his hearts content! thought they would have a thousand more adventures together before the idea of separating would even grace their minds!
he miiiight be panicing a little (and likely making the witch's life harder with his bitching)
eventually it all comes to a head when Sanji finally picks up on the building tensions/Zoro's dislike for Pudding, which leads to them fighting and a very impromptu, accidental confession from Zoro. and likely a fair amount of property damage. oops. sorry Franky.
once Sanji finishes blue-screening and his brain reboots to this new world where holy fuck Zoro LIKE-LIKES him?! hes able to give his own confession in return and clears up Zoro’s concerns - yes, he likes Pudding but not like that, you idiot, and that in reality, he was actually working closely with her because he was going to make her acting head chef alongside Zeff while Sanji was away! afterall, the old geezer is, well, an old geezer! he could use a young hand to help get everyone in line, and Pudding is no push over! she can give just as good as she can take, while staying cool under pressure. all of which, he could have told Zoro if the idiot had just ASKED.
Zoro is too busy riding the high of reciprocated feelings to care about everything else
bonus: Pudding could see how badly Zoro was pining for Sanji, she's connecting the dots, and purposefully acts flirty with Sanji - not to actually get with him, but to make Zoro jealous enough to actually make a damn move already.
mission: success (it wins her many brownie points with Nami)
#zosan#one piece#roronoa zoro#sanji#black leg sanji#charlotte pudding#ditto rambles#someone whos not me pls write this
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Ok let’s break it down shall we:
In season 4-5 I could already see the shipping potential with the concept of an angel pulling a faithless man out of hell, and said angel who is a robotic soldier suddenly starts to feel emotion after interacting more and more with said man.
Insane foundation already but I did think of how castiel seemed to already have a fascination with humanity after I saw his chat with uriel at the park where he tells dean that not only does he think all humans are works of art but that he already has doubts in heaven and in his absent father. Dean IS the one to inspire him to ultimately rebel and discover free will but I could excuse it as mainly a personal journey that you could certainly just say is a budding friendship. Setting aside the fact that they would constantly look at each other for long moments in a really charged way (for castiel I could say he’s a cosmic being that is unfamiliar with social norms or human emotion so staring intensely can be a byproduct of that but I don’t have an excuse for dean’s reactions to it, you can tell he wants to be threatened but my guy looked enraptured, if not ignited by it)
It wasn’t until season 6 and the episode The Man Who Would Be King that the “oh they’re so gay” hit me.
You’re telling me that this angel has been around for eons, witnessed the creation of everything on earth and observed it’s many big events, but did not start to feel emotion or act out until he met dean?? And he champions dean’s mission of free will even when he doesn’t fully understand it himself when the other angels ask him. I can say this is still apart of his personal journey but at this point I cannot deny that dean is the one that really spearheaded it forward. He starts a whole war in heaven so that he can maintain dean’s mission and so that his sacrifice (his brother) was not for nothing. The fact that cas’ bad decisions were all based on the fact that he just didn’t want Dean to be involved because he was finally retired and at peace so he had no one else to turn to except crowley. He really cares about dean’s happiness THAT much, that is a mighty intense feeling to have for someone to me.
Then they emphasize the fact that dean is the one who feels the most betrayed by cas after struggling to even accept it in the first place. There’s a lot of intensity within the dialogue in the scene they confront him about it, and they’re sure to give me a close up on only dean to make sure I know how he feels about it. The eye contact in that scene really goes crazy because there was so much there on a deeper level, It was like you could see how they both realized the betrayal was breaking the trust between them but they were still wanting to hang on to that connection because it was something they both cherished, the way dean looked back before leaving? Insane.
That episode was the main hit for me, but it was largely mainly on castiel’s end. The main hit from dean’s end for me was when I saw the purgatory flashbacks in season 8.
In season 7 it seemed to me that dean was very effected by cas’ death and handled it in the classic dean winchester way of internalizing it all, but we get lines here and there about how bothered he is by it whenever his concerning behavior is somewhat addressed. Before Cas even had a chance to redeem himself after what he did, Dean seems to have already forgiven him, defending him once cas re-gains his lost memory and says he deserved to die. This showed me that the connection they had meant as much to dean as it did to cas.
And he really shows how much it means to him with how he fights tooth and nail to get cas out of purgatory. Cas literally disappeared once they got there, making it look like he abandoned dean, and then actively ran away from dean because he thought he belonged there. Yet dean was so insane that he hunted down cas’ location, caught up with him and dragged him to that portal. He literally had a way out that he chose to ignore until he found castiel, and was willing to die to get him out. Dean very desperately wants cas to be around when he gets out, he did not like how it felt when he previously wasn’t. Again, that is a mighty intense feeling to have for someone to me. Especially with how his memory literally changed what happened because he couldn’t handle that cas was left behind??
I do think a big part of this storyline is showing how dean thinks everything and everyone is his responsibility because of the way he was raised by his father as a hunter and protector. But we’ve seen this in dean since the beginning, while not fully addressed until now, it’s not new, so the fact that they used castiel to further show this side of him is very insane. Leaving Cas in purgatory would effect nobody on the outside except Dean, Dean made it his personal mission to get that angel out even after everything he had done, and that level of intensity was another major hit on the Destiel train for me. That and the gay ass reaction dean had when cas walked out of the bathroom when he got back from purgatory???
anyway, I’m only on episode 8 of season 8 rn so that’s all I’ve seen so far.
y’all I am so sorry for years I assumed that gay ship in supernatural was just a delusion that people overanalyzed and claimed queerbait for no reason cuz I’ve seen that happen a million times but now that I’m actually watching the show they really were gay as fuck LMAOOOO
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ᜊ 𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝐶𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠 ᜊ
FEATURING : Itoshi Sae, Michael Kaiser, Oliver Aiku, and Itoshi Rin
ABOUT : Them as your long distance fiancé, which will unexpectedly becomes your husband in near time. In which you kept your pain, because you couldn't have the right time to tell them about you and your baby.
Note : These are short scenarios for each characters, I was inspired by the song "When She Cries" by Restless Heart. Enjoy reading!
=͟͟͞͞➳❥ Itoshi Sae
— You breathed heavily, as you felt nauseous all of a sudden. Timing, your fiancé Sae called. "Hello? Honey! How are you? Currently in Barcelona Airport, I was gonna surprise you that I was coming home, but I couldn't seem to decide what to bring, so gotta tell you instead! How's our new house in London—? H-hello? Baby? Are you there?" You couldn't respond as you were already in the bathroom puking on the toilet.
"Honey! Hello? Are you okay? Hello?" He kept bugging but you were already in the urge to grab a pregnancy test and took it quickly "Honey, this isn't funny. I hear some rattling in the background, what are you doing?"
You gasped as you saw the results. "Positive." You sternly spoke "Positive? What do you mean pos— oh. Oh. My. Gosh. BABY! PLEASE REST! I'LL BE HOME 6 HOURS IN TIME, PLEASE BARE WITH ME!" You suddenly cried because you couldn't bare the pain you're feeling right now.
Shit. Don't tell me she's..
— Timeskip —
Sae came home just in time, he was carrying a lot of stuff, but he dropped everything except a bottle of water and some pills.
"BABY I'M HERE! I KNEW I HAD TO TRAVEL BACK TO YOU FOR A CERTAIN REASON! I just had a feeling.." There you laid on the corner of the bed, still feeling nauseous.
"Sae, b-baby, I'm.." You stuttered. "Shh.. I know, I'm here. I got water, and some pills to reduce the nausea you're feeling."
He knelt down towards your belly level "So you're coming soon huh? Better take care of your mom here, she's getting dizzy and sick, I don't want that you know" You slightly chuckle "Love, you're so weird." You stated.
"Oh, if I'm weird, I wonder how the little one will be- I'll be teaching this little buddy how to play soccer the moment they come out- but- what if it's a girl— EVEN BETTER!" He ran around the room like a kid full of excitement, this wasn't his typical way of acting, but he was way too excited to be a father. You suddenly cried, "Baby, hey, why are you crying? I'm here now!" He gently sat next you "I-" You sniffled "I thought I was going to suffer alone.. I thought you wouldn't come back.. I thought I would end up being a single moth—"
"Shh" Sae placed his index finger on your lips, signaling you to no longer continue "Honey, I'm here. You're not suffering alone, You won't be taking care of this baby alone. I've been out of the country because of my career, but now, I can set aside my soccer career. Taking care of you and the baby is much more important, don't worry. I've cancelled all my schedules, I'm free the whole year. If I needed to go back to Spain, I'll make sure you'll come along this time. At least I can keep an eye on you" He pecked your forehead as reassurance.
"I will never leave you, so don't cry, it hurts seeing you cry and suffering with pregnancy. I love you okay?" He kissed you once again and you nodded as you felt reassured everything was alright.
=͟͟͞͞➳❥ Michael Kaiser
— You and Kaiser were happily talking with each other through the phone, as you were sipping tea in your balcony floor, admiring the view from there as you talked with the love of your life.
"Once our final game is done meine liebe, I'll come home straight to you and we'll binge watch your favourite series the whole night, how does that sound? Hmm?" His voice muttered from the other end of the phone "I'd love that schatz, I'll be wait—" "Baby? Liebe? Hello? You were saying?" Kaiser's eyes widen as he heard vomit noises from the end of your line "Baby? Are you okay? Hello?" Your voice echoed the bathroom as you cried, you hated the feeling when you puke, it was the worst "Liebe? Are you vomiting?" Kaiser was already too worried "Baby I think I'm—" You continuously vomited. "Ahh!! Where's the pregnancy test?" You yelled.
"Preg— PREGNANCY TEST?!?! SCHATZ DON'T TELL ME.. Fuck." He ended the call immediately.
You didn't noticed he ended the call because you were too stunned from what you saw right in front of you.
"P-positive? No way.. It can't be.. He's still away for three months.." You felt nauseous once again and went back to the toilet seat to puke.
— Timeskip —
"Shit, shit, shit" Kaiser cussed as he was packing stuff in his luggage. "Michael? Where are you off to?" Ness barged in without notice "I'm going back to Germany." Kaiser coldly spoke "Huh? But our training has not completed yet- besides, what's the rush? You told your fiancé that you'll be back after three months."
"Correction, my wife. And she needs me, soccer can wait. Tell Ego, I'm heading out, I'll make it all up, but cannot promise as well. For now, my liebe needs me." Kaiser seriously stated as he finishes packing.
"I'll be going now, tell Yoichi he's in charge now, ciao!"
"I- but-" Kaiser didn't let Ness finish and he slams the door from behind. Ness sighed "It's like he's having a baby or something-" He just shrugged and went off to tell everyone what happened.
— Timeskip —
Kaiser arrived just in time. He unloaded his luggages and extra stuff from the back of his car "Gosh, I hope these stuff will help her.."
He arrived towards your room, he sees you resting peacefully in bed. He caressed your cheeks and kissed your forehead "I'm home meine liebe." He scanned around the room, and saw your leftover tea outside the balcony, and he took it and closed the unclosed sliding door from the balcony.
He surveilled the bathroom as he saw what a mess it was, and he saw a pregnancy test lying on the bathroom counter "Fuck, it's positive?! YAHOO!!" His loud voice woke you up.
"Micha?" You swore you heard a familiar voice. "Liebe!" Your ears rang as you heard it clearly.
You jumped from startledness as Kaiser came out the bathroom with the pregnancy test in his hand. "SCHATZ?!? WE'RE HAVING A BABY!!!?" He jumped for joy as he immediately pounced himself in bed with you kissing you non-stop.
You suddenly cried. "Liebe, why are you crying? I'm here!"
You suddenly laughed "Micha.. It's just that, I thought you would come back much more later.. I did not expect you to come home so early.. I'm overwhelmed.." You spoke lightly.
"Oh my süßer Schatz, I can already sense, wait no, I felt you were in need, especially you're carrying our mini us. It's unacceptable if you're suffering alone" His words made your tears fall "Aww Micha.."
"Now now, you want ice cream? As soon as I landed, that was the first thing I bought for you" He proudly said, which made you laugh "That's the pretty smile I wanted to see, now I'll go get it okay? I'm sure little one wants one too hmm?" He spoke to your belly. He kissed your tummy and your lips "Ich liebe dich, schatz. Remember that. I'll go grab the ice cream and extra snacks and we'll watch the series? Like I promised" He winked at you as he left the room to grab the food he mentioned.
You simply laughed, too lucky to have loving fiancé, or should I say, husband, and a father of your future child.
=͟͟͞͞➳❥ Oliver Aiku
— You were cooking ramen for your dinner, as a way to stop your stress over your fiancé Oliver Aiku. He was quite a pain in the ass, but, despite your fiery anger towards him, deep inside you were wishing he would show actions as a proper fiancé.
As you were cooking, tears started to flow. Mood swings suddenly hit you out of the blue. You wiped your tears, turned off the stove and went to the dining room to eat. You were thinking your menstruation was coming up, so you didn't bother to worry.
You were alone, as usual. Aiku has been very busy with his soccer career, and he's always either with Shidou or Sendou. You didn't mind because both were also your friends and constantly updates you wherever they are when Aiku couldn't.
Sendou sent a voice message using Aiku's number saying; "Hey Mrs. Aiku~ your fiancé is at it again, so many people interviewing your bae, what a busy man he is, don't worry, his fangirls won't be able to approach him because I lead them to me and Shidou instead! And damn they're hot!"
You simply let out a small chuckle as you were listening to their update, but at the same time you sighed, wishing Aiku himself would update you instead.
You left your phone open as you went to the kitchen to wash the dishes.
— Timeskip —
You came out the bathroom looking fresh as you just came out from showering. You were about to grab your novel to read when your phone rang, it was Aiku's number, you prayed it was Aiku who was calling this time, but sighed as you saw Shidou instead. "What now?" You let out a tone of annoyance "Hey bae! Just wanted to call on behalf of your hubby, he asked how were you?" Shidou spoke.
"Eh? He could've just told me directly- is he really that bus—" You paused for a bit, as you swore you felt a painful twist in your stomach "Really that what?" Shidou asked "I said is he really that busy to the point he couldn't ask me direct—" You paused again.
"Bae, if you keep on pausing on a wrong timing for fun- stop it, it's not funny" He sassily rolled his eyes "Wait- I need to go to the bathroom real quick.." You went to the bathroom and leaned your phone near the mirror, still on video call with Shidou.
"Uhm- bae? You good— oh my goodness-" You vomited and cried "I'm not feeling well Ryu.. I don't feel good.." You vomited once again "Oh shit- SENDOU!! CALL AIKU IMMEDIATELY! HIS WIFEY IS PUKING RAINBOWS AND SHIT-" Shidou panicked.
You cared less on what's happening on call, you couldn't think straight because your stomach really hurt and the nauseous feeling is taking over, you suddenly cried because of the pain your feeling right now "Shit, must've been the ramen that I ate.." You gaslighted yourself "Bae! When was the last time you had your period?"
You paused for a moment..
"NO! IT CAN'T BE!" You yelled as it echoed around the bathroom as you intensely find a pregnant test somewhere in the room.
"Bingo! Shit, this can't be." You groaned as you took the test.
Silence took over the atmosphere "Uh- Bae? Hello? Sendou! She's quiet!" Shidou panicked again. "Huh? Hello? Our beloved Mrs. Aiku! You good there?" Sendou asked from the end of the line.
You suddenly let out a sharp scream "DAMN WOMAN- CALM DOWN!" Shidou yelled back.
"I'M FUCKING PREGNANT.. IT'S POSITIVE!" You cried "Well shit, I'm telling Aiku, if he ain't listening I'm going to smack the shit out of 'em" Sendou spoke as Shidou ended the call.
You sat there in the bathroom floor spacing out, you soon started crying, knowing that Oliver wouldn't be able to be by your side during your pregnancy days. You sighed and suddenly felt nauseous once again and felt to urge to vomit once more.
— Timeskip —
The front door has been slammed open, with running feet speeding up the stairs.
"My beloved!" Aiku barged in the room, looking for an nauseous fiancé. He checked the bathroom and saw how messy it was, and the smell of vomit was still a bit humid.
"Shit. Where is she?" He scanned every corner of the room until he spotted you spacing out on the couch of the balcony, your eyes being lifeless looking. He soon felt guilt all over him.
He slowly opened the sliding door leading outside the balcony "Baby? I-I'm sorry... I'm here now.." Silence. Silence was the only reply he got from you. "Is it true? It's positive? I-I'm going to be a father?" Still silence.
He sadly sighed and knelt down to see your eyes "My love? Please, talk to me.."
Your eyes soon teared up "You're the one to talk." You replied coldly. "Baby, I'm at fault here I know, I just wanted to clarify if I'm gonna be a fath—"
"WHO SAID YOUR GOING TO BE A FATHER? AFTER HOW YOU TREATED ME?" Aiku went silent. "You asked me to marry you and I said yes, and this is the treatment that I received?!! I feel the mockery Oliver.." You cried.
Oliver gulped "I'm sorry okay? I've been so busy, relying that I finally got a soon-to-be wife, but I forgot to give time.." Your tears continuously flowing.
"Hey baby, don't cry, it's not healthy for the baby.. I don't want to harm you and our child.. You want me here? I'll do it. I'll sacrifice my soccer career. I'll be a proper husband and a father." He stated.
"All you do is talk. Not a single action shown." You replied with a weak tone, tears still flowing.
A few seconds you felt surprised because Aiku is now carrying you in bridal style "Hey! Put me down!" You demanded "You said wanted some action, I'll show you what I just said, I mean it. Again, I'm sorry my baby, can you forgive me?" He asked in a pleading tone.
"Make me." He suddenly kissed you, a soft and warm kiss, which melted your heart. He pecked your cheeks, nose, and forehead after "Now can you forgive me?" You chuckled. "Fine, but I'm still mad at you. I only ate ramen for dinner just so you know." Aiku's eyes widened.
"Am I hearing it right? Ramen?! I don't think so, that's not healthy for the baby. I'll make you soup, it's much more healthier" He demanded "Pfft- since when can you cook?" "Pardon me? I can cook, I just couldn't show you because I was too busy, now I'm here, you'll know" He winked.
You couldn't help but to giggle over his cheesy expression.
A few minutes passed he came with the soup as promised "Here my love, served warm and tasty~" He said as he sat next to you on the bed. He soon fed you spoonful of the soup "Mmm! Tasty indeed! Wow honey, you do cook! Cook for me some time please!" You praised "From now on I'll cook for you everyday!" "Promise?"
"Promise."
— Timeskip —
Shidou and Sendou arrived with extra foods and drinks, "You almost lost the keys- we could've been locked outside-" Sendou said "Eh- they're here anyway, they can open up for us" Shidou replied.
"What if they're asleep-" Sendou added as he placed the paper bags filled with foods and drinks. "Nah they're still up, LOVEBIRDS WE'RE HERE!" Shidou yelled.
"Oh for crying out loud Shidou keep it down!" Sendou spoke sternly as they went up the stairs.
"I told you they're still— awake.." Shidou lowered his voice as he approached your room "See what I mean-" Sendou stated.
You and Aiku were comfortably sleeping in bed cuddling and Aiku continuously caressing your hair. Aiku slowly opened his eyes and spotted his friends and did the "shh" expression, as a sign to keep it down.
Both gave him a thumbs up and Shidou quickly took a pic of you two peacefully resting and swiftly went back downstairs.
Aiku had enough of his friends mischief, he checked up on you and saw you calmly resting, a smile plastered on his face.
"I'm never hurting your precious soul again.." He whispered and gently gave you a peck on the forehead, and he gently went back to sleep.
=͟͟͞͞➳❥ Itoshi Rin
— You finally rested as you've just finished your spring cleaning. You let out a sigh, opening your phone with no notifications from him.
"As usual, no update from him.." You closed your phone and decided to read a novel to pass the time.
The novel you read made your tears drop as you relate to the main character of the story, having a cold and airy fiancé is quite hard.
You closed the novel and stared at the ceiling blankly. You thought of something on how to get Rin's attention. But you suddenly remembered, he still has that caring and loving side. Suddenly your phone popped up an notification, it said;
Rin : [ Hello love, I'll be coming home later in the evening, what do you want for a souvenir? ]
You let out a small chuckle, you seemed so contented and happy from a single notification from him.
Your brows suddenly furrowed, as you felt nauseous and weird, you tried to brush it off with a smile. But as you were replying, that uneasy feeling came back again.
You felt the urge to vomit so you quickly went to the bathroom and threw your phone to the bed, but as you threw your phone out of impatience, you accidentally pressed the call button.
But, Rin immediately answered it. Which was a miracle, but he wasn't the type to really ignore you, he proposed to you for a reason, he loves you.
"Hello? Darling? Uhm- your camera seems to be facing the ceiling-" Rin felt confused "So- uhm- about my question- you kept typing, I expected a long message but—" He paused as he heard a vomit from the end of your line "Honey?!" His tone suddenly changed "Hello?!?" He kept calling your name but no response, instead he keeps hearing you vomit from a distance.
"Shit, never knew this time would be coming.." He said as he ended the call.
On the other hand, you tried to gasp for air. You couldn't help but sob "What is going on with me?!" You cried.
You spaced out for a bit and vomited again.
You went back to bed to see your phone laying on the spot, you noticed some notifications, so you continued messaging Rin without knowing what happened before.
You : [ Anything Rin! I'll accept anything! Thank you for asking! Your presence is what I need the most tho :( ]
After messaging Rin, you decided to take a nap.
— Timeskip —
Rin finally arrived, barging in as if someone was chasing him. "Darling?!! I'm home!" He yelled as he placed all his stuff down and running up the stairs panting.
"HONEY!"
"AHH-" You gasped as you immediately sat up from your slumber "Rin?! What happened?!" You worriedly asked.
Rin ran towards you with a worried face "Are you okay? I brought everything you need" You suddenly felt overwhelmed as his actions were different so suddenly. "H-huh? Rin? Is everything okay?" You seemed confused.
"Oh my gosh" He grabbed a pregnancy test from his pocket "Here take this." He said as he assisted you all the way to the bathroom "What is this? H-hey!" He shuts the door for you.
A few minutes passed as he was walking back and forth from the bedroom, waiting for you to come out, when you did, he immediately checked up on you "So?"
You gulped "I-I'm.." You cried "Shh.. Hey.. Tell me" He sweeps a stray tuft of hair off your face so he could see you clearly. "I'm pregnant.." He went silent for a moment and gave you some space.
You were scared, so you silently cried.
"WOOHOO!! I'M FINALLY GOING TO BE A FATHER! I'M TELLING NII-CHAN!!" He happily yelled as he hugged you tightly.
"Why are you crying? Hey, I'm happy.. Finally.. I'm sorry if I couldn't be here in time.." He kissed your cheek.
You cried even more now, your a crying mess "I just wanted you here!! I'm so lonely in this huge mansion.." He suddenly chuckled "I'm sorry, you know there's a reason why I'm always away right?" You nodded. "I missed you a lot too, I'm just- not good at expressing on what I feel. I'm sorry.."
You went silent for a moment. "I'm sorry for not knowing that.. Why don't let's help each other hmm?" You suggested.
"That's a good suggestion darling, great timing. I won't be away for awhile, so I'll be here doing husband and father duties." He coldly stated, but you felt the care in his tone at the same time.
"I love that!"
"I love you." He said as he cupped your cheeks to kiss you warmly.
#blue lock#bllk#michael kaiser#bllk kaiser#blue lock kaiser#itoshi rin#rin itoshi#rin itoshi x reader#blue lock x female reader#kaiser x reader#sae itoshi#itoshi sae#sae itoshi x reader#oliver aiku#bllk aiku#aiku x reader#blue lock aiku
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What are your thoughts on the possibility of Petunia redeeming herself or atoning for her abuse of Harry? This is more ramblings and musing then coherent ask, sorry.
You mentioned in a previous post that while she might not love him, she is concerned for her nephew’s safety - as well as that her emotions towards Harry are quite complex (similarly to her emotions towards and relationship with Lily, post-magic revelation).
There are many fics where Petunia does eventually break the cycle of abuse she and Vernon perpetuate on Harry (but usually this is the result of either divorcing Vernon or her husband outright dying), but I’m kind of curious as to what you think in your analysis of her character.
Petunia is a tough nut to crack for me when it comes to fics where she is redeemed.
At the very least, the extreme neglect and enforced silence that Harry is raised in just…it’s terrible when you look at it more deeply than the early books intend.
Which is made worse still by later on, when she swings a frying pan at his head (Chamber of Secrets, I think?).
In the first books, I get that as the target audience was young kids, not much gravitas was placed in Harry’s treatment in the hands of the Dursley’s - they were the bad family he escaped into the magical world from, the anti-thesis to the Weasley family later, meant to seem more caricature and buffoonish.
If that frying pan had hit Harry, though? Depending on how hard Petunia swung it, no matter that she was concerned for Dudley (after Harry didn’t even use magic, just pretended to), that could have killed him.
We know Dudley beat Harry quite often with his friends, and Vernon at the very least threatened to do so (and from some of Harry’s lines, likely went through with said threats at times), but little about Petunia’s abuse of Harry is mentioned except in the very early books - her shaving his hair except for his bangs for example, leaving him to go to school mortified - so there’s no indication that she regularly threatened him physically over the emotional abuse, but still.
Not to mention the potential for neglect/abuse that Petunia herself went through, Lily being their parent’s favored child over her, how that in turn also affected her relationship with her sister, and then how that is turned on to Harry…
Petunia’s character, and redemption/atonement for Harry’s abuse is such an interesting concept.
Personally, I was never interested in a Petunia redemption arc. I think she's just as bad, if not worse than Vernon. So I'm going to have to disagree with you.
It's not that Petunia's sitting there feeling bad about how she and Vernon treat Harry and wish she could stop it — she doesn't. It's very clear throughout the books that she isn't remorseful at all.
Her feelings about Harry are complex because Harry is Lily's son. And as bitter and jealous as Petunia is, I think, she used to love her sister. Used to even be protective of her. So, deep down, I don't think she wants Harry dead or seriously hurt (to her standard), but at the same time, she feels justified in hurting him and treating him as subhuman.
See, Vernon truly does hate wizards. He fears magic, he loves normalcy, and he despises the "freaks" that essentially represent everything he hates. He's straightforward and completely honest in his approach.
The reason I sometimes consider Petunia worse, is becouse she isn't honest, she's a fucking hypocrite.
She wanted to be a witch. She wanted to be special and go to wizard school like Lily. She was jealous of Lily that she got to do magic and go to Hogwarts.
Petunia started calling wizards freaks and latched onto normalcy as a way to cope with not being special. I mean, she was told that magic exists, that there's a whole special world of magic out there, but that she isn't special enough to become part of it.
So young Petunia coped by going in the opposite direction. She became as normal as can be. Started claiming anyone special was a "freak" even when deep down she fucking knows that if she got a chance she'd leave and go to Hogwarts in a heartbeat. That deep down she wants to be special.
She transferred that jealousness and bitterness, then toward the wizarding world as a whole onto Harry personally, which is so unfair. Like, I find it disgusting, I find it disgusting how righteous she feels treating him the way they do. She is very similar to Snape in this regard (projecting her problems with Harry's parent onto Harry), just without any of the redeeming qualities since she isn't even all that smart, and she wouldn't give a shit if all her neighbors died one day (Snape would). And Snape was better to Harry than Petunia, let's be real, being an ass to a kid is not the same as starving a kid and locking him in a cupboard.
But I do want to point out, that she doesn't have the excuse of a cycle of abuse (I'm saying excuse because that's what it is. Tragic backstory can be used to explain characters' actions but it doesn't absolve them) becouse Petunia wasn't abused or particularly neglected. We have no indication she was, and I think it's more likey she was treated well.
We're told their parents loved having a witch in the house by Petunia in PS, but when we see Snape's memories, apparently their parents urged a pre-Hogwarts Lily not to do magic. They feared it until it was explained to them. Petunia is biased in what she says. Because while they were supportive of Lily once they understood, I don't believe they ever mistreated Petunia, and I don't think she is meant to be read as neglected.
I mean, Lily wasn't even home most of the year, Petunia was getting all of their parents' attention year-round, and during the breaks, they probably dotted on Lily because they hadn't seen her in months. This isn't neglect or abuse. This is Petunia being a petulant child who didn't get to be showered in attention all the time because her parents wanted to hear from the daughter they only got to see, like, 3 months a year.
I don't think either Lily or Petunia were abused or neglected, and I find it somewhat silly to try and justify Petunia by giving her a tragic backstory when the books make her reasons to hate Harry very clear. These being jealousy and pettiness.
So, I'm not interested in a redemption arc or atonement arc for Petunia or Vernon for that matter. I think neither of them deserves it and the only atonement I'd be interested in for them is a prison sentence for child abuse and neglect.
Yes, Petunia may not beat Harry physically as often as Vernon or Dudley, but she lets them. She watched him be chased by Marge's dog and laughed. She approved of Vernon's and Dudley's treatment of Harry because if she didn't, she wouldn't have let it happen. She stopped Vernon from throwing Harry out of the house when Dumbledore sent a threatening letter to her in OotP; if she cared to stop the abuse she didn't actively participate in herself, she had the power to do so, but didn't. Becouse she thought Harry deserved it. She mistreated him just as much. Looking at him with disgust and scorn and calling him a freak is abuse. Starving and locking him up is abuse. She isn't any better than Vernon.
The only Dursley I can see redeemed is Dudley. He started his journey in the books (btw, in that scene, Petunia thinks Dudley is "too sweet" for telling Harry he isn't a waste of space) and he actually was a child, like Harry. He did what his parents did like every child does. But he shows signs of improvement after Harry saves him from the dementors. He realizes his parents are full of shit.
So, yeah, Dudley is the only Dursley I'm interested in a redemption for. Petunia and Vernon deserve a prison sentence.
#harry potter#hp#hp meta#asks#anonymous#hollowedtheory#harry potter meta#the dursleys#vernon dursley#petunia dursley#dudley dursley
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There is so much content with RSD Soap out there that it got me thinking - what if he was really the absolute opposite?
Yeah he likes attention - everyone does to a degree, but he really doesn't need it. Can be alone with himself for weeks on end and not feel the worse for it.
But because of the way he is - outgoing, engaging, easy to like - people often think he can't possibly do without. Not realising he's so easy to be around and talk to because of how confident he is to be just with himself.
What if we get the usual snippy comment from Ghost, but instead of withdrawing into himself out of hurt, Soap just shrugs and goes "Fine, Ah'll shut up, ye see how ye like that.", turns around and leaves.
And it's Ghost who fucking suffers. Not because he's got RSD or anything either. No.
Because Soap is his friend and he doesn't have many of those. Well he's also his occasional, what are they actually? One night stands? Friends with benefits?
He probably decides it doesn't matter because he can deal with being horny. That really isn't the issue here. The issue is the empty space at his six, a presence he suddenly learnt he took much too granted.
Because Ghost is the one who feels a pang of hurt every time he sees Soap hanging out with Gaz or Price, when he notices he wasn't invited to the pub night. Because it's always Soap who invites him. Who thinks of him.
And when Soap and Gaz get sent on a mission he gets hilariously drunk after having a nightmare that Soap isn't going to come home. That their last interaction was Soap telling him to see how he liked being alone again.
He'll agonise over it in his room all night on his own. Because Ghost doesn't get help. Except for Soap. Who he can't go to.
Maybe he slinks around in the morning to Prices office, inquiring how the sergeants are doing. Thinks he's slick.
Price just telling him "You know if you got over yourself he'd take you back without even an apology. Which you owe him, by the way, whatever you did."
And Ghost is bound to fucking hate that call out, especially because he knows that Price is right.
He's agonising over it for like three more weeks before he finally caves and just slinks up and falls in place next to Soap on base somewhere.
And Soap just turns to him and smiles "Yer an idiot Lt."
And Ghost just goes, "I know." relieved as hell because he can hear by the tone of Soap's voice that they are okay.
#no shade to the rsd soap lovers at all#i just also like to imagine them like this#you know spinning a trope around and seeing what it tickles in the grey matter up there#this was inspired by my mafia au because of reasons#aka ghost hating how likeable soap is#ANYWAY on to the usual#ghostsoap#soapghost#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#cod mwii#cod mw2#cod#ghoap#my writing
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Link, shut up and kiss me.
Another Commission!
They asked for Time, Twilight, and Warrior with the phrase above.
Masterlist
Enjoy!
Content under the cut!
Time
It was nearing sunset when you were called to follow your husband on some stroll through the forest. The dwindling sunlight draped itself over the trees and sparkled downward to illuminate the bits of dust and leaf particles that would otherwise have been naked to the human eye. The sunset had turned the earth pink. It would have been lovely to see, had Link not steadily led you deeper and deeper into the forest. The shadows progressively got darker and darker. The animals got quieter and somehow more foreign to your senses.
A consistent stream of anxiety began to creep into your body. You didn’t want to look like a scaredy cat but you couldn’t ignore how you were scanning your surroundings more and more frequently.
Link for his part, didn’t look bothered at all.
“Is there any reason we’re doing this?” You looked around the crooked trees and subconsciously took a step closer to Link. Nowadays he was going by the name Time, if only to avoid confusion with the other eight Links that have been his traveling companions in the past months.
You’re not entirely sure how they found each other. Link hadn’t told you the exact details but then again, you trusted his judgment. You knew that he went through a lot of trouble to keep you, and by extension, all of Hyrule safe. There was a lot of darkness that he unfortunately had been privy to. He had used himself as the filter of a lot of wicked visions and realities that he had guarded you from.
It had taken its toll on him.
There were countless nights when you could hear him grunting and whimpering in his sleep. The demons refused to leave him alone even then. He’d woken up screaming more than once and each time you had taken it upon yourself to calm him down and soothe him back to sleep. It hurt, knowing that despite all his efforts and strength, Link wasn’t strong enough to defeat the monsters in his own head. To add salt to the wound, you knew there was nothing you could do about it except hum a lullaby and hold him just a little bit tighter.
Still, Link did his best to keep the evil away from you.
There was a moment of silence where Link held his hand up and you paused behind him. He waited, searching for some hidden clue before reaching for your hand. “We’re doing this just to take a moment to breathe,” He gives you a cheeky wink. “Is it so wrong to merely want a moment with my darling, away from prying eyes?”
“That’s not what I was asking and you know it.” You give him a playfully flat look. “We didn’t have to travel this far to get away from the boys. I’m sure if we asked nicely they would have found a way to entertain themselves without us.”
Link rolled his eyes, squeezing your hand in his. “I didn’t want to take any chances.”
“Alright, fine, but you still haven’t told me whatever it is you have planned.”
“It’s called a surprise, my love.”
You tried your hardest not to pout. It wasn’t often Link got this playful. While he wasn’t usually grumpy on a good day, (despite what the other Links may have tried to convince you of), he didn’t usually like to keep you in the dark if it involved get-away plans either. On one hand, part of you was glad that he seemed less stressed enough to play with you this way. It was cute and made him look ten years younger. On the other hand, you were annoyed and feeling nosey as hell. You wanted to know! Why is he keeping these sorts of secrets from you? Now? Of all times!
Link, for all his perception, obviously notices that you’re being a tad petulant. He laughs as quietly as he can under his breath before tugging you along again. “This way. We’re almost there.”
You bit your tongue, otherwise you would have stuck it out at him. You can feel Link’s smirk on his face, and frankly, you don’t care for it.
Within seconds, Link moves a branch out of the way, revealing a babbling brook with a picnic blanket on the ground. There’s a picnic basket filled to the brim with goodies and treats alike and a very expensive bottle of wine. You didn’t even drink! Where did he find the time to do all of this?
Your heart swelled, wiping off the minor irritation from his earlier teasing. “...Oh Link… How did you-? Where did-? Why-?”
“I’ve missed you.” He says softly, gently tugging you closer. “Getting your letters isn’t the same as actually talking to your face. I’ve missed your laugh and your smile. I’ve missed holding you in my arms. I’ve missed waking up next to your face every morning. I don’t want you to think I’ve forgotten about you while I’m out traveling to protect our home-”
“Link, shut up and kiss me.” You blurt, cutting him off at once.
Smirking, Link pulls you flush against his chest, cupping your jaw with his free hand. Leaning down, he tilts your head just enough to close the distance easier. A breath passes and the air leaves your lungs. Link presses his lips to yours with retrained hunger. There’s a depth that warns you of the impending desperation behind his touch. His touch is firm but not painful. You reciprocate in kind, clutching onto the front of his shirt as your knees begin to buckle from underneath you.
Link pulls away first, letting go of your hand to wrap it around the small of your back. There’s a delight clean in his eyes. His eyes have gone stormy and borderline sultry. “Not to cut it short, my love, but if I don’t restrain myself, I fear we won’t be leaving this little slice of paradise any time soon.”
Wordlessly, you nod. How lovely.
Twilight
“Link?” You quietly call out to The Rancher.
The group decided to take a break for a day or two purely to regroup and regenerate their forces before continuing on the next leg of their journey. It would have been fine and dandy to get more supplies and rest your feet if Twilight hadn’t been acting… strange.
He’d been distant and distracted.
It was worrying, to say the least. Granted, it wasn’t as if he was a man of many words. Twilight, you’ve noticed, was a bigger man of action than you’ve ever had the privilege to meet in your life. On top of that, silence was commonplace among anyone in the group named Link, but lately, it was heavier when you stood next to him. Pensive. Lost in thought.
You didn’t want to pry. It wasn’t like it was any of your business.
But you were nosey as hell.
I mean- you care about him! Of course! Naturally, that was the bigger- the biggest reason you wanted to ask him what was up. If something was bothering him you wanted to know and you wanted to help him.
Sure.
After everyone had checked into the inn and had settled for the night, you found that you couldn’t get your brain to shut up. Twilight had been the last to get one to go to bed and you weren’t entirely sure that he followed through with his promise to head to bed anytime soon.
You walked into the lobby of the inn and found The Rancher resting on one of the provided chairs. Lo and behold, he was still very much awake and staring off into the fireplace that the inn had kept lit just for him.
You don’t think he heard you call for him.
“Twilight.” You try again, moving to stand by his side. Bending your knees, you squat next to his chair so you’d be able to look up and meet his gaze better. “Hey. I think it’s past your bedtime, Rancher. What are you doing still up?”
He took a breath and looked over to you. His eyes widened and he leaned back as if noticing your presence for the first time. He said your name under his breath and it sent goosebumps down your spine. He didn’t have to say it like a prayer.
You gulped and nodded. Yes. That was your name. You asked him a question.
He responded in kind and shook his head free of the thoughts in his head. Twilight opened his mouth to question your intentions but you beat him to the punch.
“What’s going on, Link? Don’t lie to me.”
His eyes widened once more and he cleared his throat. “Do you… Do you ever think that maybe-... Nevermind, it’s stupid.”
“No, tell me.” You stressed, putting your hand on his knee. “You’ve been all out of sorts lately. It’s had me worried.”
“Really?” Twilight turned back to you. “Was I that obvious?”
“You lack subtlety Link.”
“...Oh…”
You wait for him to continue. He doesn’t. If anything, it looks at war with himself. He opens his mouth multiple times, looking back and forth between you and his lap. He’s silent. Multiple minutes passed as he tried to get his thoughts in order. You were willing to wait for him to make headway with his thoughts. There was no use pushing him before he was ready.
“I think I’m in love with you,” He blurts.
You fall backward onto your butt.
Twilight coughed, blushing a bright red that traveled all the way up to the tips of his ears.
“L-Look, I’m not going to pressure you or anything.” He stumbled into an unwarranted explanation. “I’ve been trying to think this through and I’m aware this isn’t exactly the most opportune moment to say this or admit this and we still have a job to do so this is arguably the last place for a relationship. But I don’t even know if you want a relationship or if you even think about me that way-”
Your jaw slowly dropped as he continued to verbally barf into the space. You couldn’t get a word out otherwise. He just kept talking.
“And then there’s Midna and everything that she was to me.” Twilight desperately runs his hands through his hair. “I almost feel like I’m betraying her and everything I stood for at the time but this is different. It feels different. You’re different. It’s stronger. All-encompassing. From the top of my head to my toes, this is a drowning sensation of ever-loving need and I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t know how to stop it. I don’t know if I want to stop it.”
“Link-”
“And you’re so beautiful.” He shakes his head, ruffling his hair roughly. “And I’m a shotgun nobody from the deep ends of the country-”
“Link-”
“How do I even begin to start with how amazing you are? With how talented and great and absolutely breathtaking-”
“Link, shut up and kiss me.” You grab the front of his shirt and tug him closer to you.
Twilight completely freezes on the spot, staring in your eyes like a fish out of water.
A beat passes.
Then a second.
And then he surges forward, scooping you up from the ground and placing you in his lap with very little issue. One hand stayed by your hip while the other caressed your jaw. His touch was soft, tentative, like handling fine china.
You, however, had no such reservations.
You weren’t about to let this hunk of a man slip through your grapes and allow his self-doubt to dictate what happened next. You wanted to eliminate any sort of inquiry about where you stood from his mind. You wanted him. You have been wanting him.
You undoubtedly returned his kiss with more passion than he had anticipated. After a second of scrambling to match your energy, Twilight finally got with the program.
You had absolutely zero regrets.
Warrior
“Why would you do this?” You hissed, vibrating from the sheer force of will you exerted over your body to keep from throttling the man in front of you. “Didn’t you say that we had a plan? Weren’t you yelling at me earlier about sticking to the plan we came up with?”
“Things got… complicated…” Warrior sighed, rubbing his temple. He had taken a gnarly hit to the head and it wasn’t going to do anyone any good if he had a concussion. The sight made your heart ache, but it was also fully brought upon him by himself. “...The plan needed… last-minute reconfigurations.”
You growled and ruffled your hair violently. This was the farthest thing from ideal. You were both in the middle of nowhere and there was no sign of any villages or fairy fountains.
You had both set off to scout ahead before anyone arrived to survey the land. Your efforts were more or less fruitless. It was a mountain range with countless dips and swells that held more hidden threats than you were able to avoid.
The plan had been to stay out of as much as possible and to not engage in any fights or battles if you could help it. That being said, that didn’t account for any hidden threats or monsters that were laid in an ambush. You would have thought that would have been what had caused Warrior’s injury. Nope! It was far more simple, and frankly, far more stupid than that.
Frustrations aside, the land was beautiful. It struck you as odd that this mountain range would cease to exist by the time your Hyrule came into fruition. There were hundreds of maple trees scattered about that gave the earth an absolute darling shade of red as the sun traveled across the sky. A gentle, if bitterly cold breeze shook the leaves from their branches, sending them to flutter through the air in their dance to the ground.
You throw your pack onto the dirt and begin to rifle through it. You needed to find something, anything! You didn’t want to deal with Warrior while he dealt with his concussion. You weren’t entirely sure if it was bleeding, but given that his golden blond hair hadn’t been stained yet, you were willing to bet a pretty rupee that it wasn’t as bad as you had initially feared.
You cursed your luck. You had no potions, no painkillers, and no bandages at all. You could have hit yourself. Weren’t you warned by the Vet to pack extra of everything on the off chance something gets lost or stolen? Granted, neither of those things was stolen or lost, they were simply used up and not restocked. You had only yourself to blame.
“I blame you,” You tell Warrior, giving him a sideways glare. “Tell me why you thought it was a good idea to do a double backflip off a rock, then proceed to slip on the landing and hit your head on the very same rock.”
Warrior groaned loudly and rubbed the goose egg that was thankfully hidden under his hair. “Well, for starters, it’s not like I intended to slip. I had the full intention of landing that flip.”
“Ok… So, tell me again why you didn’t.”
“...”
“...”
“I may be in need of new boots.”
“Oh shut up! That wasn’t the problem I was trying to highlight! You shouldn’t have done it to begin with! We knew it had been raining earlier.” You shout, watching unapologetically as Warrior winces at the sound. You huff and helplessly turn in circles, trying to spot something in the distance where you could go. But you don’t see anything despite turning around multiple times. It feels demoralizing.
Sighing, you walk over to Warrior and wrap your arms around his middle for safekeeping. You’re not entirely sure how steady he is on his feet and you don’t need to risk him slipping and hitting his head again.
He tries to push you off but you’re not having it. After getting swiped at no less than three times, you poke his stomach eliciting a soft ‘oof’ from him as a result. “Stop squirming. I can’t trust you to not get hurt again and we’re not in the position to take any more chances.”
Warrior puffs up, offended and indignant. “I’m the captain and leader of the entire royal battalion-”
“And you nearly tried to crack your skull open with no one around to impress,” You hiss and jostle him to prove a point. “Tell me you didn’t think that I would find that particularly impressive.”
Warrior stays silent.
“Oh for Nayru’s sake,” You grumble, shaking your head exasperatedly. You adored Link, truly you did, but your tolerance of shenanigans could only contain so much before you’ve reached your limit. Since then, Warrior decided, (or rather he gathered that he wasn’t going to win the upcoming argument any time soon), that it was better to not engage in a verbal sparring match about his stupid decisions and that his safety would depend on keeping his mouth shut for the time being.
Walking beside him, side to side, was actually quite nice, you admitted to yourself. He was warm, lean but not without the feeling of power he carried beneath his skin. You never had a reason to be this close to The Captain so this was a pleasant surprise. Warrior leaned against you, favoring a leg no doubt as you walked. You wanted to stop and yell at him again for hiding it, but there wasn’t much that would change if you decided to follow through with that thought.
There was still no hope of rescue or hiding civilization to get him treated. Feeling antagonized, you managed to maneuver the both of you into a cave and set him down. Without another word, you got to work on making a fire to warm you both against the chill of the stone. Warrior hissed softly as he rested his body and he was beginning to look a little worse for wear.
‘The pain must be finally settling into his body,’ you think to yourself as you watch him from the corner of your eyes. With a sigh, you try once again, in vain, to look through your pack for anything that could help him.
Nothing.
“...Oh wow…” Warrior says breathlessly. “You look really pretty like that.”
You freeze.
“...”
“...”
“...Excuse me?” You say gently and slowly crawl to his side. As subtly as you could, you look over the side of his head.
“Next to the firelight,” Warrior says, adjusting his position against the stone wall of the cave. “It made your hair glow and your eyes sparkled. There were flecks of gold that shimmered and shined. It was pretty. You looked pretty.”
“H-hush,” You ran a hand through his hair to check the damage. The swelling had begun to settle at long last. “It’s the concussion talking. You don’t mean it.”
“My filter is busted but my thoughts are valid,” He growls under his breath. “I’m not sure how I’m going to think of this when I gather my wits about me this time tomorrow. But I’m certain enough now to not regret my words.”
You flush against your will. You couldn’t stop it. You turn your face away from the fire to hide in the shadows. You pray it would be enough for him to not notice the way his words had affected you.
“The pink looks cute on you too.”
Too late.
“OH-! Shut up.” You huff and spin back to him. “You’re cheating. That’s not fair.”
“Cheating for being honest?” Warrior gets a boyish smirk on his face. It’s lethal damage. “For giving you a compliment?”
“Shut.”
“Can you at least look at me?”
“Nope.”
“Please?” He says sweetly.
“Shut up.” You say weakly, turning to face him anyway. “Shut up and kiss me before I do something stupid.”
Warrior laughs and tugs you closer by your sleeve. “You have to come closer. I can’t move much like this.”
With a small whine, you scoot even closer, letting him move you the way he wants before he gently presses his lips to yours. Something tells you that perhaps you shouldn’t take advantage of the situation like this. He still took a hit to the head. That hasn’t changed in the past hour.
Still, Warrior tugs you impossibly closer, snaking his hand from your arm and into your hair. The slight tug catapults the thoughts from your mind as you sink deeper into his arms. Your hands come up to cradle his face and pull him closer as well. Right as you feel the need to pick up speed, he pulls back, a pure, satisfied smile full of male pride dancing on his lips.
The look would have had you buckling at the knees if Warrior hadn’t decided it was a good moment to break the silence.
“Enjoy yourself?”
You nearly smack him in the head again.
#linked universe#linkeduniverse#linked universe x reader#lu x reader#lu time#lu warrior#lu warriors#lu twilight
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Hey, guys! I gift another fic for @pompadourrguy, featuring TFO Starscream and cybertronian!reader who are both tired as HELL.
Recharge
Warnings: None
Word Count: 500 +
Long into the hours of twilight, you studied near your desk, alone and focused on the task at hand. Stopping Sentinel. Plot after plot, you worked, trying your utmost best to not only end the scourge of a false Prime, but to please the spark of the one you held the most dear. The High Guard toiled tirelessly, but you aimed to surpass even your greatest limits. Competence was key, and procrastination and insubordination couldn’t be tolerated.
Still, you possessed quite a few doubts, namely one that involved your sparkmate. Starscream. Lately, the amount of recharge that he was receiving was truly concerning. It was too little, far too little for your liking.
But how could you convince him to rest?
Just as you felt yourself nodding off, you heard the sound of a vocalizer clearing. Surprised, you lifted your helm to lock optics with Starscream. For a moment, he lingered near the doorway before entering your shared quarters with a casual sway of his frame.
“Oh! Sir!” You quickly stood. “I didn’t see you there.”
Starscream smirked, finding amusement in your words.
“Interesting. I was standing here for some time.”
A bit ashamed, you blushed and played with your digits.
“Oh…”
He neared your desk, observing the various blueprints and schematics. As he did so, you paid close attention to his movements and his expressions. He was slow, much slower than usual, only furthering your belief that he was not receiving the proper recharge.
Before he could even speak, you stepped forward.
“Uh, Starscream, can we…talk for a moment?”
The mech cocked his helm to the side.
“I suppose we can.” He sat on his reclined berth. “Does something bother you?”
After finding a chair to sit across from him, you allowed a sigh to leave your dermas. Instead of thinking of what to say, you decided to just be honest and speak from the spark.
“I mean, I’m in no position to question your work ethic, however, I…I worry that you haven’t been receiving adequate recharge.”
Starscream didn’t respond right away. His crimson optics glistened as he thought to himself, his wings twitching lightly. He gazed at you, his expression firm but softer than ever before, seemingly absorbing your appearance.
“Well, in that case, I could say the same for you.”
You blinked.
“Really?”
Starscream’s stare hardened only slightly.
“Of course. Everyone can notice how tense you are.” He frowned, leaning backwards a bit to think some more. “As integral as the mission is to our cause, I…cannot ignore the needs of my conjux.”
Your spark fluttered at his words, a shy smile gracing your faceplate. It was rare of him to display such softness to anyone, but you supposed that you were the exception, being his beloved and all.
Starscream patted the space next to him.
“Come. Sit with me. I’ve already notified Soundwave and Shockwave. We can recharge for a short while.”
Slowly but eagerly, you did as he told you, nestling against his frame on the berth. With your servos and legs intertwined as best as they could be, Starscream turned his helm towards you with a faint grin.
“Comfortable?”
“Very.”
As the two of you fell back into a slumbering position, you drifted off into recharge without even noticing it.
With his frame against yours, Starscream began to speak.
“My dear, I-”
But you were already fast asleep.
With no one watching him, Starscream smiled, pressing his helm against your faceplate.
Divider Credit: @/diviniyae
#starscream#transformers#transformers one#x reader#transformers x reader#starscream x reader#mouseyindulgence#my fics#tfo#tfo starscream
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